


Bloody Royal Kids: Part I

by A_J_Romanoff



Series: Bloody Royal Kids: Part I [1]
Category: American Ambassador, American Politics - Fandom, British Monarchy - Fandom, British Royal Family, House of Windsor, Royal Family - Fandom, The Crown (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Americana, British, Crossover, Fanfiction, Future, Modern Royalty, Multi, My First Fanfic, Near Future, POV Multiple, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_J_Romanoff/pseuds/A_J_Romanoff
Summary: The year is 2035 and we are looking at a not-so-distant future into the political and monarchy landscapes of the Western and Eastern world, and the new generation of kids that are growing up in it. Archie just wants to break free from his Pacific prison to find out more about the royal side he never had a chance at getting to know; Louis is contemplating that exact royal life he loves for one of a photography passion that at times crosses into territory that was the reason for his own grandmother's death; Mac is the youngest son of the Prime Minister of the newly-stated Independent Party, and is looking to stake out on his own independence even if it will cause him to be in the public sphere more than he already is; Euphemia is a bright girl who is given the opportunity of a lifetime to intern at one of the greatest jobs ever, even if she feels people on her back for her Pakistan-British heritage; and then Ryan who is the son of the American Ambassador just trying to find his footing in this strange land and the world as he comes into his own.Full of love, humor, sadness, hope and adventure, this is the first part of a long volume on the Future Modern Royals and their friends.
Relationships: Camilla Duchess of Cornwall/Charles Prince of Wales, Candace Owens/George Farmer, George/Charlotte/Louis/Archie, Kate Middleton | Duchess of Cambridge/Prince William of Wales (1982-Present), Meghan Markle/Catherine "Kate" Middleton | Duchess of Cambridge, Prince Harry of Wales (1982-Present)/Prince William of Wales (1984-Present), Prince Harry of Wales (1984-Present)/Meghan Markle
Series: Bloody Royal Kids: Part I [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129922
Kudos: 2





	1. Archie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PaleRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleRose/gifts).



Chapter One  
Archie

“Arch!”  
The boy heard his ever-loud mother shout from the other side of the house. You’d think these stone walls had such power to block out her vibrant Valley Girl tone, but it never could. Even the older she got, and the more alto her voice started to harmonize with, you could hear Meghan from just about anywhere in this house.  
“Arch!! Can you come down here?”  
Not even a please? Well, the boy was not shocked. His mother, and father too, were spoiled rotten when they were children. And continued in that manner as they became adults. The past remained their present and there was no way of ever changing who they were. Not that he had much luck with his father, with him being gone for so long now, both physically and then in recent months. Not even a single phone call or letter from abroad. Archie understood that sometimes it was difficult to write, based on wherever the ship may have docked itself. But his father must have had some sort of clout and power to reach out to his son.  
Oh, that’s right, he didn’t. Not anymore. He was no longer in line of succession. He was treated as a measly British citizen who was serving in the Navy. Corporal Windsor is what Archie believed they referred to his father by. Interesting, they did not reference his former Army last name of Wales. Archie always wondered if this was a slight at his father (and his mother as well) becoming the modern day version of the original Duke and Duchess of Windsor. Except that would require them to have retained royal titles, like great-great uncle David and Wallis. Harry had been removed from the line of succession after the divorce and was only allowed to maintain his “Prince” title due to birth rights. And then Archie’s mother Meghan being totally stripped of all use of her Duchess styles. She was no longer a part of the British Royal Family, and she was hardly a part of Hollywood Royalty either. What had once seemed like prospective futures for the once happy couple when Archie was still a wee-baby, turned out to be for not. Their destructive online presence turned into a destructive marriage that forced both to stray and cheat and then be called upon by higher powers to officially divorce.   
Then Archie’s father lost all his business dealings in America (not that they were successful) and was ejected from the states and back to the United Kingdom and immediately kept on house arrest for a few months up in the north of Scotland with uncle Andrew. Then after some time of retreat and rehabilitation, he was forced into an “exile” of sorts, and that was how he landed in the navy. Either that or army would have been fine, but in the navy he would be kept on a ship and totally out of the public eye. It was for the best, or so all the tabloids and press was saying and commentating.  
And as for Archie’s mother? Well, no matter how many interviews she could have with the failed career-women like Ellen and Oprah, no one wanted to hear her story either. And then her many attempts to help out in politics, but no one wanted her there either. It was like both Meghan and Harry had become a virus. The world over knew her and Harry were full of nothing but lies. They had once loved each other, but then let that ambition supersede the more important things in their life.  
Like their own son.  
“ARCHIE!”  
Alright, he figured he’d better go see what the hell was up with the madam of the house, the ex-princess. He placed the book under his pillow so no one could find it. Archie was not one for social media. In fact, he had zero accounts for it. Not because his parents were so “anti” social media when he was growing up, but because he personally chose to not involve himself in any of that nonsense. He knew where it would lead him the further he stayed online in any capacity. In fact, it was like Controversy was his middle name. He never had it easy in school, and even now in high school at the age of sixteen, things had never gotten better. Yes, there were kids nice to him, and teachers dotted on him because he tried his best even though he would be the first to admit he was no academic. And he was no athlete either. Well, star-athlete per say. He still did yoga regularly with his mom at home. She thought she was as great at it as she was at thirty but times had certainly changed. But like yoga is meant to do, it gives you some peace of mind, and boy did Archie always need that. Whatever antic his mother was bringing up at the dinner table each night, whatever the kids were laughing about behind his back in the cafeteria at school or when he was alone reading on a bench. And sure as hell wherever or whatever his AWOL father was up to at this present moment. It was at times like these he missed his Nana Deedee, his grandma on his maternal side. Unfortunately losing her to breast cancer just a few years ago, Archie was still not over it and found himself crying sometimes at night. She really helped raise him when his parents and him moved to Los Angeles before he was one year old. The loss of a grandmother, the only grandmother he had left, since he never would get to meet his father’s mother, the late Princess Diana. He knew somewhere in his heart that she would have helped take care of him as well, even if he was a whole continent apart.   
He found his mother in the kitchen, with too many trays, bowls and utensils covered in ingredients and covering the surface of the marble countertops. Oh brother, more attempts at her resurrected The Tig blog that she had been occasionally working on here and there post divorce. It did seem to make her happy, even though she rarely had big name brands partnering with her. Possibly because they knew she couldn’t be trusted. Not because of the fall out of Archie’s parents many court cases. But because its not like she was good about posting to this blog daily. It was almost like a part-time gig for her, when she wasn’t trying to do good and help out charities and organizations nearby and even from a far. Archie admired that part in his parents, that they did want to help others. Its just…he always felt like they were sticking their noses in other peoples’ business when they shouldn’t be, but what was he to know? Archie was the only one in their family that constantly was avoiding public attention. He did not want to be bothered, something he thought his parents had once wanted themselves, and for him.   
“Ah good,” Meghan said, bits of flour on her cheek, Archie wondered if it was real or for show. “Get my camera, over there at the breakfast nook, battery should be charged. Just get a few shots of me in my ‘natural habitat’,” she laughed at herself. Archie closed his eyes as he turned around and picked up the Nikon that was sitting on top of a mess of papers that include mood boards and references for lord knows what project his mother was cooking up next. The battery was half full, that should suffice for the few photos he would take of her.  
“Smile,” Archie offered up as he began to click away.  
Almost instantly his mother grinned as she fake laughed and moved her head side to side. Only a few shots head on of her face, hands up in the air like a child who was at play. Then gave her usual side angles for the camera, only seeing a certain extent of her profile as she pointed out what a mess she had made of their kitchen. Archie slightly moved left to right, just so that there’d be a few instances that the pictures were at least a little varied. He had been scolded in the past for that when all the photos looked the same. When he told his mom that maybe she should try a different fake pose once in a while, well, she wasn’t so thrilled. They didn’t speak for nearly a week, very hard considering they were the only two who lived here.  
He switched so that the flash was on for a few shots, wondering but already half guessing what his mother’s reaction would be like. She instantly was shocked, a real shock, not the fake kind she had been posing for the last couple of minutes.   
“Hey! What’s up with the flash?” she remarked with a scowl in her eyebrows.  
“I figured I’d try something a little different…” Archie began to claim, but then his mother marched around the counter and forced the camera from his hands. She began inspecting through the camera roll. “It actually looks good that one, you really look caught off guard, for once. And there’s nothing that a little Photoshop can’t help with the coloration and brilliance.”  
His mother shrugged and couldn’t argue with him. He was at least tech savvy in that regard. Considering he had like no friends, educating himself in tips and tricks were a nice exchange. Listening to someone online educate him on how to do something even if he wasn’t a carpenter or photographer was still useful and fun. It did feel like having company, even if that sounded like the loneliest thing for a teenager to say in the year 2035. Everyone had their virtual friends, but you actually communicated with them and hung out on streams. Listening to a tutorial online was not exactly the same, but it was as close as Archie got to someone helping him around here.  
“I suppose it isn’t the worst,” Meghan sighed. “What am I going to caption it?”  
“I don’t know,” Archie shrugged, tossing a hand through his dark auburn hair. “Sunday Scaries when it comes to meal prep?”  
“And then I can say some of the things I prep ahead of the week,” she sat there with it, and then walked away with camera in hand, probably heading to her office/studio where she could start planning this post for the first time in weeks. “I’m going to be working on this today,” she shouted back.  
“Of course you are,” Archie sighed, and began to clean up the kitchen. He knew none of this was for real, it was all for show. Much like other things he had learned about his parents after all these years. Archie half wondered what she had even mixed together to disguise all these spatulas and spoons. Of course it could be one of her “vegan” hattricks but he doubted that considering one thing was clearly egg yolk. He scrubbed off every last remnant of goop on the supplies before putting them in the dishwasher, and then Clorox wiping down the counter top that had become a mess as well. Looks like it was going to be another pizza night tonight, or perhaps Chinese in front of the TV as his mother was glued to her phone handling “business” when he clearly knew she wasn’t considering her laptop constantly had People magazine and the Daily Mail up in the browser. Sure, she was handling business of some sort, just not business deals to make herself a true career woman.  
When Archie got back up in his room, he opened the glass doors out to the balcony that overlooked the beach. They had moved to this house in Malibu after the divorce, since the house in Montecito was no good considering everything that had happened. This house was a decent enough size, he had no idea how his mother afforded it, but most important he liked the view his room offered. He could stare out into the ocean and think of a different place across the way. Of course, he wasn’t dying to go to Australia or Asia if that’s what you had in mind. But he imagined being just about anywhere but California. The few trips his mother had taken him to the Caribbean that had been trips where they helped out local villages. That was what started Archie’s interest in wanting to help others, secretly knowing he got this from his grandmother Diana. But he didn’t want a photo op like his mother always needed to have. Archie was content helping out in any way he could, even the small things. Like helping out his teachers at school with things. There was always that silent appreciation between them that kept him on their good side. He wasn’t doing it for a better grade or to be a teacher’s pet. Archie volunteered to help out his teachers because he saw it as the right thing to do. Considering everything they did for him and his classmates to be better students and citizens, it was the least he could do, cleaning up a classroom or helping a teacher organize and distribute things. It also wasn’t like Archie was in a rush to lunch or some after school activities or hangouts, none of that was on his agenda. Some of his teachers even knew that, one in particular freshman year brought up how he always helped her out. Of course, he went for the usual “It’s the right thing to do” which is true, but his teacher was curious why he wasn’t so reluctant to be this way around his classmates. The teacher soon would realize that for as nice a kid Archie was, no one wanted to be nice back to him. He had grown completely numb to it by that point in time that it was almost natural. As sad as that sounds.  
And no teacher wanted to ask him personal questions, about his parents, about his family, about his own birth even. He had lived with those rumors his whole life as well, never once daring to ask his parents the truth. There were elements of both of them in his physical appearance that could not be denied. But growing up with speculation and suspicion really damages the mental frame especially at such a young and vulnerable age. One of the many other reasons he chose to not interfere with the press and social media. Especially in this day and age where it was even more of a beast than when his parents supposed tirade of a campaign “against” social media was in effect. Yet again, more proof of why Archie just wanted to be left alone, and allowing his classmates and own mother to treat him this way was only the start of his upcoming downfall.  
But how could he be invisible? How could he be a no one? When in fact, no matter what his name was, he was a someone? He still meant something to other people whether he knew them or not. He still, even after his own father’s decree of dismissal, was in the line of succession to the British Thrown. A whole world he had no memory of, being whisked away before he even turned one, and never having stepped foot in that soil since. A world away from worlds, both physically and metaphorically. A great grandmother who served as the longest reigning monarch ever in history, now dead in the ground nearly five years at this point. His grandfather, another member of his family he had no memory of, the sitting King. A grandparent should have a relation with their grandchild, but Archie never got that chance with the new King Charles. And then there were his aunt and uncle, the new Prince and Princess of Wales, who were the true future of the monarchy, along with his cousins who he too could not recall ever meeting. Perhaps when he was a baby the first few months, but how was he to remember that moment in time? Who’s to say they would remember it too? And if the rumors were true, his father and uncle had already had a huge falling out before this and the relationship would only be further fractioned by that year’s end, and totally dismantled by the new year when Archie’s parents decided to abandon their senior duties and privileges to become self-dependent.  
Well, look how wonderful that turned out.  
There was another world waiting for him, family he did not truly know and only knew from a far. Even his grandmother Diana’s side of the family, what would they think of him if they met him now? What would their thoughts be of this boy? And would they help teach him all he had to learn about his late grandmother? All the good she provided and the huge influence she left even after she was long gone from this earth? So many questions unanswered after all these years. And here Archie was, in his own gilded castle, looking out into the unknown of what could be or could have been,  
He left the door wide open so he could get that spring sea breeze. Flopping himself onto the bed, face burrowed into his head of pillows letting out a muffled scream of exhaust before he turned over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. He would not allow himself to cry, he had learned to not do that so much anymore. There wasn’t much emotion left in this boy anymore. Not after everything he had been witness to his whole life. Even the stuff he was lack of witness to. He was the shell of a man even though he had not reached adulthood. Another important time of his life now less than two years away. The time he will get to make the choice of his standing in the British monarchy, is he in or out. Or would someone else make the choice for him? That wouldn’t be so different from how the rest of his life had been playing out.  
He reached his right hand under the pillow and pulled out the book he had been reading before. “The Hollow Crown” by Dan Jones, a history of the medieval British monarchy during the time of the Plantagenets and the War of the Roses. Not at all in relation to the current royal family, but he couldn’t help but see parallels. And the title itself, the words “hollow” and “crown”, was it all really that bad? As bad as his mother tried to paint for him, or as bad as his father neglected to tell him the truth about?  
Archie needed answers. His own answers. He was getting too old now to keep playing kid


	2. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is 2035 and we are looking at a not-so-distant future into the political and monarchy landscapes of the Western and Eastern world, and the new generation of kids that are growing up in it. Archie just wants to break free from his Pacific prison to find out more about the royal side he never had a chance at getting to know; Louis is contemplating that exact royal life he loves for one of a photography passion that at times crosses into territory that was the reason for his own grandmother's death; Mac is the youngest son of the Prime Minister of the newly-stated Independent Party, and is looking to stake out on his own independence even if it will cause him to be in the public sphere more than he already is; Euphemia is a bright girl who is given the opportunity of a lifetime to intern at one of the greatest jobs ever, even if she feels people on her back for her Pakistan-British heritage; and then Ryan who is the son of the American Ambassador just trying to find his footing in this strange land and the world as he comes into his own.
> 
> Full of love, humor, sadness, hope and adventure, this is the first part of a long volume on the Future Modern Royals and their friends.

Chapter Two  
Louis

“COME ON NOW LOTTIE!”  
Louis was impressed by the vocal chords his mother still possessed at her age. But by just glancing at her, you’d still think she was ten years her junior. The new Princess of Wales had ceased to age past her early forties so it seemed. His father could get excited but not this loud, and same with Louis’ older brother. For his own defense, he would cup his hands quickly and shout “Go Charlotte!” before those palms quickly grasped the Leica camera hanging around his neck, and then he’d snap a few shots of her in action on the pitch.  
“Come on now, pass it girls!” Louis’ Aunt Pippa shouted from beside her sister, also the future queen. Both Middleton girls whore matching sunglasses to this outing. That’s one thing that Louis and his siblings inherited from this side of the family, style and sports. It was no wonder Kate was so enthusiastic at these kind of events, and was glad Charlotte picked up with the club field hockey team here at Edinburgh. Maybe it wasn’t what a Royal should do at university, but Charlotte was much like her great-aunt Ann: born to be different and stand her ground. And Kate wasn’t going to dismiss her daughter’s athletic abilities while she was away at school and thought she should enjoy herself.  
“Move it up field, Lot-“ Louis’s one cousin Arthur said from his side, his younger brother Paul beside him, mirroring his every move. The two Matthews boys had gained their father’s height and neck, but their face was all Middleton, just like Louis gained from his own mother. He didn’t mind the Matthews boys, they were typical British schoolboys if you asked him. Not that Louis wasn’t, except he gladly slung off the necktie the chance he could and would hop on his motorbike and vroom away from the stuffy institution that is college. Not that he didn’t already live in a palace as stuffy as the word is, but that was different; Royalty was duty, school was…another duty. Really one step closer to him going on to university and perhaps studying photography. Besides the athletes and army officers in the family, the firm had produced many artists.  
Taking photos of Charlotte and her teammates play was boring at best. So Louis would swap and take candid photos of his mother, aunt, and cousins while they sat off on the sideline, away from most other spectators, security in tow. Just because royalty wanted to have a family-friendly weekend didn’t mean they could just willy-nilly go about it without guards. Especially with how close Louis’ parents were to the throne, and George gone off to do his pilot business post-grad. No risks could be taken.  
But these photos Louis could take off to the side showed the other half of how the royal family lived their days. They could be just like any other family, as hard as that may be to believe. The way his mother and aunt laughed in a photo, or in the next one they were shouting out onto the field. Then his cousins beside him, either cheering on their cousin playing, or picking a fight with one another, easily making up within moments and then laughing about something stupid. And then there were all the other many photos Louis had of his family, at their home at Kensington Palace in London (or Ken Place as the cool kids called it), out at their country home Anmer Hall. Moments of the five of them in their backyard, out on nature walks, spending time together in the kitchen. And then when the whole lot of the firm would get together on holidays or for certain celebrations. Didn’t matter what the paparazzi were snapping photos of from a far, Louis had the true inside scoop. Pictures he would definitely archive for future generations to look at and see the humanity and humility these people had with one another. Because even with drama and gossip all around them, they were just trying to be like any other ordinary family, crowns or not!  
Of course, these family-friendly pictures weren’t the only thing that Louis developed in his dark room or on his laptop in his makeshift studio of their apartments at Ken Place. Louis enjoyed taking photos of the complete opposite, whether that be out at nightclubs and bars, seeing all different cool cats and creatures lurking through the night. And of course, he enjoyed being on the other side of the line. The one where he got to get back at all the years of tabloid culture trying to berate and belittle his family at large. Louis was known from time to time to take that motor bike of his into the night and snap a few not-so-savory pictures that may or may not cause trouble for those involved. It was a little price the press had to pay after everything they had done to the past, and even the present monarchy. Now these days the paparazzi realized they were dealing with the younger crop of fresh blood, who wasn’t going to take their crap so easily. No chance, this was the technology age of kids and adults, you couldn’t let things get passed them so quickly without them smelling out a rat.  
“YES!” Kate exclaimed as Charlotte passed the ball across field to her teammate who put it into the net with ease.  
Louis swerved his body so he could get a shot of Charlotte sticking her tongue out with glee before her and her teammate embraced upon the pitch. They were now up by four, a nice cushion that hopefully they could cruise for the rest of the game with. And now his mother and aunt could resort to their own private conversations and not be as obsessed with how the game might shape up for the end.  
Louis turned to his cousins “So you say you’ve been to this pub before?”  
“Yeah, dad has taken us to it before,” Arthur answered.  
“Its not too bad, everything you need, and will be able to have privacy,” Paul chimed in.  
“Right,” Louis pretended to look like he was fixing his camera. That’s one of the other traits his Matthews cousins gained from their Middleton half: they really liked getting to ride off the royal wave. Not that their father and grandfather hadn’t already been super successful in their endeavors, so much so their money could buy out the royal security. At least these two weren’t so bad, it was Arthur and Paul’s cousins from their Uncle Spencer Matthews who thought they were the ones close to the throne. Louis always tried to avoid dealing with those distant relatives at any Middleton gathering, or anyone that really weren’t these two boys, or his three cousins from his mother’s younger brother. Now that George was either away on duty or secretly spending time with his sweetheart-lassie he met at Trinity College, or Charlotte when she’d be home saying she wanted to hang with her friends from growing up since she didn’t see them up in Scotland while they all did the usual Oxford-Cambridge route. But, at least at those gatherings it didn’t stop Louis from bringing his camera with him.  
Eventually the match was over and Charlotte had finished talking with her team before she made her way over to the five of them as they stood at attention, anticipating her. “At ease soldiers,” she remarked as she stood five feet away.  
“You played so well darling,” Aunt Pippa went in for a hug as her pocketbook wacked the back of Charlotte. Then Kate hugged her daughter and brushed her with a quick kiss telling her a job well done on the match.  
“Get any good shots of me?”  
“Oh yeah, of course,” Louis chuckled back.  
“Don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” Charlotte darted eyes at Paul, “what do you think, junior?”  
“I—I—” the younger boy stammered  
“Come off it Lot,” Arthur said. “You know your brother is good with a camera.”  
“Don’t I ever,” she sounded back like it was all one word. “Are we heading to town now or shall I meet you all there?”  
“Whatever you prefer, darling,” Kate assured her daughter.  
“Good, I could use a hot meal stat,” Charlotte started, “and nooo, I don’t stink, Lord Louis Burberry.”  
They all piled into the vehicle and drove it into town. Arthur and Paul were asking Charlotte questions about university and her classes, what she got up to in her spare time when she wasn’t playing sports or studying. Louis stuck his head out the window with his camera and snapped a few quick shots of the historic buildings and all the people roaming around these streets. It really was a cute town, tourist trap at best though, but Louis could understand why Charlotte enjoyed this life, a bit of an escape from the hustle and bustle of city-life. This always made Louis wonder whether or not he should pursue a degree at Central St. Martins or not. Why remain so close to home? Didn’t he want to have a deviation from the royal baggage?  
But that was another issue, the separation of royalty and family. One part of it he would always be bound by blood. The other, bound by duty, something that he had to work at. Something that, over time, many relatives and ancestors of his had struggled with. The purpose of the monarchy, the example they are meant to set. How one presents themselves in a public manner. It wasn’t such a strange thing, Louis and his photography skills. His mother was very gifted behind the lens, and there were so many other members of the royal family, lineage or marriage relative, who had shown their skill in the fine arts and how it benefited and connected them with the public. In a way, it kept them relative when they could relate to the public. But only relate ever so much, as royalty was like walking and living Greek Gods and Goddesses. As cheesy as that may seem, it was the truth at the end of the day. And hence why Louis realized that no matter how many times he wanted to play the paparazzi at their own game, they would quickly sell him out or pictures of him doing almost anything to make an extra few bucks on their end. At the end of the day, they did not care for him, the vast majority of the public. And it was part of his obligation to care for them, regardless. Of course you still had many staunch monarchists out there in the U.K. and beyond. But the imagination of the royal family only stayed in focus when you gave them ideals to work with, ones that could feel so mortal and humble, and yet at the same time great and powerful. The scale constantly balancing itself back and forth. The clock ticking and chiming, making itself known.  
Another thing Louis would always struggle with being the third-born, making himself known. He had his skill and craft, and understood the obligation and reputation he must uphold, but there had been so many others in similar shoes as his that had failed to meet expectations. And it almost felt like he could hear the world around him whispering those names, almost cheering him along to follow down similar dark paths. David, Andrew, Harry, and that was only the last century. Think about all the medieval Kings and Queens who were filled with scandal! It was like Louis was just expected to fail. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, and most of all, he did not want to leave his family, this life. It was all he really knew. Even when he’d be with the other side of his family, it was still like being part of the aristocracy. As much of a toff that made him sound, he’d take it over the other half he had no clue about. He couldn’t understand what others went through, and he would never try comparing himself to them or saying he understands. All he could say is that he is trying his best to understand them, and feels for them, and wishes he can do something to help. But was saying all that even right? What was right even more? The world was so sensitive, and he grew up in an institution that felt lesser so.  
They pulled up to the pub, and one of the security details trailing in a car behind came out of the passenger side of one of the cars, and took the wheel from Kate as the small family bumbled into the pub with two other guards following them closely and swiftly taking them to the back of the pub. They were in view of anyone coming through, something Kate wanted for her children, to be out in the public, but to still be respected for their privacy.  
They all sat together in a back booth where their mothers immediately ordered a few pints for the table, and Charlotte had a bangers and mash order put in with that before anyone else could even look at the menu. She must have been really hungry, but that did sound delicious right about now. Perhaps Louis would order himself the same. But he definitely could do with some ale first, just quench his thirst after the long ride up this morning from Sheffield and then standing outside watching the game in damp weather. Although he was looking forward to staying over tonight at the inn they had reserved, and thankfully tomorrow they’d take a commercial plane back to London.  
“Have you heard from George recently?” Louis asked his sister.  
“Dunno, maybe it was couple weeks ago?” Charlotte was checking her phone. “Says he is hoping to make it for Trooping next month, but I doubt he’ll be able to get off. Didn’t tell him that. Especially if he is still planning on taking off the following month for Louise and Cameron’s wedding, with the polo match following it that Sunday.”  
“You think he’ll bring Mary to the wedding?”  
“Depends, if she’s able to come, or feels up to it. Don’t really know, I know they’ve been dating a few years and let’s face it their Mum and Papa 2.0, except Trinity rather than St. Andrews. George mentioned she had been applying to a few internships for the summer so don’t know if she’ll be preoccupied with that or if she’ll be shadowing a professor.”  
Mary O’Shaughnessy came into the Cambridge family life during George’s second year of university. They had known each other the year before and were apparently “just friends” who were both studying English Literature. The world over knew about the future King of England and his fire-red haired girlfriend, but as usual the palace did not comment on their official relationship status. It worked that George was doing his time with the Air Force right now, and Mary was earning her law degree at Birmingham, so they both had a lot of their own personal stuff they were working on. And it wasn’t like Mary was going to be having this career for a very long time should her and George keep up their long-distance relationship. But that was a cool thought, a potential future member of the Royal Family who had their degree in law. It sounded…exciting, if that were even a feeling.  
“What about you? Are you asking because you have someone in mind you’d like to bring?”  
“Noo,” Louis exaggerated the response.  
“Oh come off it, you really don’t want to bring the Honorable Lady Thelma?”  
“You mean the Honorable Lady Crabface?” this made the siblings laugh and perked their cousins’ interest. “Not likely Lottie, what about you? Find a man up here yet?”  
“Not bloody likely, and I can’t see myself as being a farm wife to some Scottish nobleman.”  
“Gan-gan used to think about a life like that, you know.”  
“Yes, but unfortunately Gan-gan’s papa was given the thrown by his ungrateful brother,” she looked into her brother’s eyes. “And here we all are now. What do you say?”  
“Thank god he was a fool that fell for an American,” Louis replied.  
“Wasn’t the last one either,” Charlotte mumbled as she looked at her phone again.  
“Can you pass me that pitcher of water, mate,” Louis nudge Arthur next to him.  
“Actually, will you two be coming to Louise’s wedding this summer?” Charlotte asked.  
“I do believe Mum said the four of us were invited,” Arthur answered.  
“Surprised dad hasn’t gotten us to get sized and suited yet.”  
“Ah, yes, had grandpapa done that for you yet?” Charlotte directed this at her brother.  
“Grandpapa has been quite busy,” Louis commented, being the only Cambridge kid still in London who had a better shot at seeing their grandfather more frequently, the King that is. “But, I’m sure if I nudged the man a bit he’d break for me.”  
“Of course he’d break for you, you’re his favorite,” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “That and Nana Cam gets some privacy.”  
“I suppose, she’s been spending more days at Windsor though, I seriously think she’s considering a gradual retirement within the year.”  
“Well they are both quite old, dear brother.”  
The barmaids and barbacks came around at this point to bring everyone their drink, and Charlotte’s meal was all ready to go as well. They also placed in some order for chips and shepherds pies. They were all going to fill their stomachs to the brim this afternoon with food and drink. And above that, fill it with the joy and familiarity that is family gatherings.


	3. Marcus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is 2035 and we are looking at a not-so-distant future into the political and monarchy landscapes of the Western and Eastern world, and the new generation of kids that are growing up in it. Archie just wants to break free from his Pacific prison to find out more about the royal side he never had a chance at getting to know; Louis is contemplating that exact royal life he loves for one of a photography passion that at times crosses into territory that was the reason for his own grandmother's death; Mac is the youngest son of the Prime Minister of the newly-stated Independent Party, and is looking to stake out on his own independence even if it will cause him to be in the public sphere more than he already is; Euphemia is a bright girl who is given the opportunity of a lifetime to intern at one of the greatest jobs ever, even if she feels people on her back for her Pakistan-British heritage; and then Ryan who is the son of the American Ambassador just trying to find his footing in this strange land and the world as he comes into his own.
> 
> Full of love, humor, sadness, hope and adventure, this is the first part of a long volume on the Future Modern Royals and their friends.

Chapter Three  
Marcus

The usual symphonic music played in the background.  
Just another night on the town.  
But no, not one of those nights. The public night, the kind Marcus “Mac” Abbington endured more often than not within the last year and a half. It was quite a dramatic change in fact. Mostly because how much the media had consumed his whole family’s life versus how before they had been quite normal and civilized. That did change slowly over the last five years, when his father pushed forward and broke waves with the creation of the Independent Party in the House of Commons, how in its early summits and inaugural moments, it was doomed to fail. But then more people got behind it, the Conservative tendencies and folks who flocked to it, mixed with a handful of other supporters from Labour and Green that brought some progressive values to this new party. And then the more traction it built not just nationally but globably at least on the European spectrum, they started to be taken more seriously. So when it came to a shift in values and government, the two majority parties forever being across each other in Parliament as the dominant de facto rulers, it sent shock waves when the Independent Party struck enough votes to force itself higher and higher.  
And then, Mac’s father became the new Prime Minister. The first of this newly created party.  
Of course, having no foundation of previous leaders to work up and size against made it very difficult for the Independent Party to remain in power. But somehow they had managed to do it, there hadn’t been a recall of votes put forth, no reopening of Parliament with the King only to recognize the same Prime Minister again. So now it was all about keeping that power and position, and not letting it slip if this party was going to make a difference after all. They had a lot of commercial and celebrity backers and supporters, which was a really shocking twist. But if they could make a difference after even five years of office after the five years it took to take them seriously, then so be it. Let it be a good five.  
It almost was a bit like royalty, this whole life. The fact that Mac’s father was not just English but Northern Ireland ran in his blood as well, which boded well for that particular support and vote. Then his mother was Welsh and Scottish, which was also great to have in the back pocket. They appealed to a variety of the country. White, yes, but they cornered all four parts of the United Kingdom, even though Mac’s mother was not involved in politics. But, she played the part of politician’s wife very well. Mac was still trying to decide whether he enjoyed being the son of the Prime Minister so much. His older siblings didn’t have to worry about half of this, they were either at university or now graduated during the revolution of the party.  
Mac did realize he had to put on a good show at all these events with foreign and national dignitaries. His tall posture and fair looks made him easy on the eyes. He was still young, only seventeen, and had a whole life ahead of him. The only thing he didn’t enjoy about these events were people asking him about Prince Louis, who was one of his best friends. But after the last five years of public scrutiny, Mac realized what Louis had and would endure for the whole of his life. He’d always say “No comment” to protect one of his closest friend’s privacy. Also, Mac had a lot of his own privacy that he even kept from this supposed best friend.  
His mother grabbed his attention and brought him over to speak with her and a few members of his father’s cabinet. Tonight’s event was welcoming the Prime Minister of Italy, its first lead female minister that is. She was quite young as well, just about forty-five. Her family had been in politics for ages supposedly, so she had her in. But it unfortunately still wasn’t that easy for a woman to take the top job of any country. High up in a cabinet? Perhaps. Sadly times hadn’t changed as much as the twenty-first century had half promised it would. But there was some hope with this new leader, her country already on the up-and-up during her three year stint so far. Another fresh minister who provided new political ideals that pulled from many opposing sides, much like how Mac’s father was, as well as the French President. It was like a holy trinity was slowly being formed amongst trade relations, even though Britain had been out of the EU for quite a while at this point. The youth in these old governments was taking shape to provide for a prospective future for all.  
And prospective indeed it was, even just looking at the legacies these ministers were leaving behind in their personal lives.  
The majority of the audience turned their attention to the arrival of the Prime Minister entering along with her cabinet, as well as her husband, son and daughter. A gorgeous son. Mac was immediately blown away and in awe by this…man, really. Even though when in actuality, he was just a year younger than Mac. But boy, did this young man have those stereotypical, dark-Italian looks: jet-black hair slicked back, his Roman skin tanned even though summer was barely upon them, his teeth shinning a brilliant white that also caught the glint in his dark eyes that it even made them shine from their dull brown. He was beyond picture perfect, and also presently cut in a perfect suite with a red tie to set-off from his little sister’s green dress. It was no wonder that this boy was already known in the fashion community as a regular at Fashion Week on the runway for the likes of Bottega Veneta and Dolce & Gabbana.  
“Marcus,” his mother patted him from behind. If she was calling him by his full name, he must have missed her first few queues calling him by his preferred nickname. “Would you mind going and getting me something to drink?” She must have realized that Mac was out of place in the midst of the adult conversations while staring off into space, but really staring at the woman of the hour’s handsome son.  
Mac shrugged off over to the dining tables where he requested two waters, best to not let his mum drink this early. He turned around from the bar to look out at the crowd. He noticed that the Italian minister’s children were off to the side by themselves, just chatting, probably feeling very out of place. Perhaps this was Mac’s opportunity to go and strike up conversation. Yes, well, maybe not the one Mac was burning for. It didn’t take a rocket scientist but he knew that this other boy was definitely not interested in him, was perhaps super far from his type. Not only did Mac have an intuition of that, it was just possible that he had been stalking this Italian boy’s profile the last few weeks. Luca, the name was so romantic. And they were both from political powers, it was almost like a forbidden love. Mac was already picturing it.  
But there was no way Luca was gay. And its not like the world let alone Mac’s own family knew about him yet. But hey, sometimes, things that start out as friendly can become friendlier. And if he was just going to go over there and make them at least feel welcome, at least he could try that. Not that Mac was an expert at making friends. Thank god he had Prince Louis, not only was that boy’s royal status and advantage, but he was extremely personable and magnetic. Sometimes the best of best friends pairs worked great this way. But they were both seventeen, Mac had to stop being so dependent on others and just trust himself. Trust his gut.  
He spun around to the bartender and asked, “Actually, can you make me a shot or whiskey?” The man behind the bar glowered down at him from his glasses. Mac shook his head in disbelief, “You do realize who I am?”  
“As you wish, your majesty,” the bartender rolled his eyes and carelessly took out a shot glass and randomly selected a rye.  
Without a moment’s hesitation, Mac took it from his grasp and gulped it in half a second. This stunned the pourer and then Mac quickly stole away with the two cold glasses of water before he could say anything else. It did not matter what the man thought, impressive or not, or how Mac managed to inhale that whiskey. It’s the fact he could do it so quickly, and with ease.  
Luca and his sister were still where they had been moments before, and Mac was b-lining it across the hall to get to them until all of a sudden, an figure bumped into Mac and nearly sent him flying backwards into one of his father’s older cabinet members.  
“Sorry,” the mysterious figure said as it brushed by and rushed out of the room. But Mac wasn’t focusing on that person, he quickly took attention to the water spilled down his chest through his shirt, and making sure the elderly gentleman was alright.  
“Goodness me, Marcus, my have you grown since I saw you a month ago,” the old man joked.  
“As long as the force was not too great from my height,” Mac laughed off with him. “You alright, mate?”  
“Of course, please. I’m old, not decrepit,” and this made his posse laugh out loud.  
“Oh darling, there you are,” his mother magically appeared and snatched the glass from his hand that had not spilled. “I was absolutely parched, dear, wondering where you had run off to.”  
“Just running into me, Emma,” the old man claimed as he looked over his shoulder. “He’s a strong boy of yours.”  
“Indeed,” she eyed her pride and joy up. “Deary, what happened to your shirt?”  
“Spilled, mummy, someone bumped into me and--,” Mac looked around at that moment to see if the mystery figure was still in proximity. He could not see them. Then again, its not like he really got a good look at them either, so what made the difference?  
“Well, better go clean yourself up then, you know where the bathroom is,” she exclaimed as she trailed off.  
Mac shook his head and then looked to where Luca had been, but he had disappeared  
In the bathroom, Mac was patting down his shirt, not that it was going to help him disguise the spill. Luckily it was only water. Its not like a stain he would have to deal with. He decided to take the shirt off and put it under the dryer, this seemed fairly reasonable to do, speed up the process if anything. Besides, its not like anyone was in here from the look of it…  
The stall a few ones over from where Mac was swung open at the sound of the toilet flush. And out came Luca. But he did not even glance in the direction of Mac, not while he was slowly cleansing his hands. Not while he was catching a look at his beautiful self in the mirror, pressing down on his thick eyebrows. It wasn’t until he needed to use the air dryer that he noticed someone was already occupying it.  
“Hello,” the Italian said in a very thick accent.  
“Hi,” Mac sheepishly replied. His bare stomach out for show, which was probably hilarious to Luca who most definitely had a six-pack, no questions about it.  
“Do you mind?” the awkward accent came through, it was almost French too. But above that, there was a seriousness to it.  
“Sorry,” Mac suddenly hopped away from the dryer and allowed the other boy to use it. When he was done, he didn’t look Mac’s way, he just casually walked out of the bathroom whistling.  
Well, good thing Mac didn’t make it over to talk to him earlier. Looks like he was a total prick.  
The rest of the night was as boring as all the rest of them, considering when potential operations involving Luca went kerplunk. Mac spent the rest of the evening either by his mother’s or his father’s side when they had a moment, or he was stealing food. But not drink, he couldn’t allow them to catch him in action. Besides, he had enough of a stash hidden in his room back home. Something he made sure they really couldn’t find when they came lurking in on occasion. And he was sure as hell to make sure that the house keeper did not find it as well, even though at times, there was quite a lot of it. At first he did not want to admit to his problem, especially before it really became an addiction. At first it was to dull the pain and emotion…which really does sound like an addiction at the end of the day, no matter which way you look at it. But also, it was meant as a coping mechanism, when Mac was trying to sort himself out. Or really, figure himself out, what he liked and what he didn’t. He wouldn’t take razors to his skin, but he’d drink heavily into an oblivion so that he would knock himself out and forget the dreadful thoughts he had. But after so long of fighting himself and his truth, he gave in to it. However, that did not mean everything was a bright sunny day again. The drink had already took its toll, he needed it more than he needed water at times. And it wasn’t just a think he’d use to self-medicate and hide his homosexuality, it started to be a source he’d use at any great point of weakness. In the end, it did not take that long.  
The car ride home was awfully quiet, and when he arrived at their flat in London, his parents just bid him goodnight as he went down the hall to his room where a bottle was calling his name. Screaming his name really. Especially after the failure that was Luca, not that Mac had great ambitions to actually be with this other boy, but he still wanted that private conversation alone with him. Well, they certainly ended up having a private conversation, one of few words and few seconds. Mac should have just figured the other boy would be that way. But he couldn’t help himself and think, or dream. It was the only saving grace he had left in his soul. If he could dream up some great boy, some other one who could understand his life. The constant pressure of both living a public life and then hiding his sexuality. It was too bad Louis was beyond straight. He always found his best friend to be very attractive, not that he’d ever say it to him. He didn’t think Louis would take it weird either, but he hadn’t confided in him about his deep dark secret. Even though it was a changed world, Mac couldn’t help but fear someone’s genuine reaction.  
So now it was just him, in his room, with a bottle of whiskey across from him. An empty tumbler next to it, only occasionally clean but rarely taking the stench of hard liquor out of it. He filled it halfway and immediately took it all back in two gulps. Letting out a breath of fire, out against his window pane looking into the courtyard behind their flat. He filled the glass again, but this time took casual sips as he stared out beyond him.  
Mac knew his parents wouldn’t be offended by him being gay. They seemed to be perfectly fine with all kinds of people actually. But it went back to him being a public figure, and the dangers of that. If the country knew, hell, if the world knew, would he receive even more press than he bargained for? And God help him if he ever had a boyfriend, no matter who he may be, famous or not, what sort of press would that boy have to endure? And would he come from a good family, or a bad one? Would they be okay with having a gay son, or would him being outted to the public be detrimental? Well, no point in wondering about a pretend boyfriend anyways, its not like Mac had ever made those sort of moves. Not with the shifty few he had gotten into close corners with at seedy night clubs he had snuck into the last year or so. Luckily no one there was looking to out him to the public, nor would he give them his real name if asked. The blessing in disguise of most the clubs Mac went to were that they were pitch black except for the neon strobe lights that flashed so fast across the room you could barely make a soul out.  
Quite a contrast from what he was looking out into the backyard. So peaceful, tranquil, nothing bustling and busy about it. The complete opposite of both those nightclubs and the public light he lived under the last year or so exclusively. Of course at school his classmates took more of an interest to him now that his father was the big wig in charge. But luckily having someone like Louis and the other boys they palled around with made it feel normal. The other boys coming from aristocracy, sons of other MPs, or famous sons of famous actors or performers. To them, Mac wasn’t extraordinary, he was ordinary. Just one of the fellas, except this fella had many secrets he hid from them. Even the alcohol.  
It was all getting to his head now, the more he thought about it. He’d be turning eighteen in less than a year, and then hopefully moving on to university. Where to was a good question, he still hadn’t figured that out. But he couldn’t wrap himself into those questions. As Mac felt that there was still so much in the present that he needed to sort out. About himself, before he actually did anything good for himself. He felt undeserving of goodness or greatness, and the drinking helped bring him into that state of depression. He had to get out of it, or at least get help while still in it. Maybe it was time to start being honest about some things. He didn’t know if he could still come out to friends or family, he was still nervous about that. Perhaps the alcohol would be first, and then they’d learn why he used it. Abused it, really, and that might deafen the blow. But what if, regardless of the two, he made others around him feel ashamed?  
In the end, Mac just didn’t want to let anyone down.


	4. Euphemia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is 2035 and we are looking at a not-so-distant future into the political and monarchy landscapes of the Western and Eastern world, and the new generation of kids that are growing up in it. Archie just wants to break free from his Pacific prison to find out more about the royal side he never had a chance at getting to know; Louis is contemplating that exact royal life he loves for one of a photography passion that at times crosses into territory that was the reason for his own grandmother's death; Mac is the youngest son of the Prime Minister of the newly-stated Independent Party, and is looking to stake out on his own independence even if it will cause him to be in the public sphere more than he already is; Euphemia is a bright girl who is given the opportunity of a lifetime to intern at one of the greatest jobs ever, even if she feels people on her back for her Pakistan-British heritage; and then Ryan who is the son of the American Ambassador just trying to find his footing in this strange land and the world as he comes into his own.
> 
> Full of love, humor, sadness, hope and adventure, this is the first part of a long volume on the Future Modern Royals and their friends.

Chapter Four  
Euphemia

Sleeping in on a Saturday had never been a thing for Euphemia Arain.   
In her youth, it was typically booked with cultural and spiritual gatherings with her parents and members of their community. But as she got older and could start working and make herself some pocket change while learning about “a sense of responsibility” (as her parents liked to remind her), it was working-girl time. She didn’t mind it all that much, but it did start to chew away at her social life. And the older Euphemia got, she was glad to have a good group of girlfriends to surround herself with. It was just a shame that she was always working, always the Cinderella of the group. Euphemia was constantly left wondering if she was going to fulfill teenage dreams or not by the time she went off to university in a little over a year. Perhaps she really should consider a gap year, and one that she spent traveling or doing something other than her mundane routines.  
However, she couldn’t complain, and shouldn’t really. The café had been very good to her. Allowing her to work some afternoons when she’d get off from school, and then constantly give her shifts on weekends. Which she knew would pay off in the long-run, even if it meant sacrificing time away from those school friends. Putting in the commitment to this job would show that she could be relied on. And, perhaps over time, be able to pull a few strings when needed. Just like she was about to today.  
The quick tube ride over to Primrose Hill was not so bad from her family’s modest home in Surrey. Albeit, Euphemia had naturally just grown used to it, so to someone else they might see it as very long. Especially so early in the morning. Luckily she did not have to deal with so many people on the Underground. In fact, sometimes she would see similar people every few weeks. Whether they were medical professionals or police officers, perhaps all on a clock or specific shift. Sort of like Euphemia. There was never a doubt that she would be opening on a Saturday. But, she’d take it. Better that than closing. Its not like she went out most Friday nights anyways. Her parents preferred her home and so they could have a family dinner, even if it was just take-away from around the corner. It was more about spending time together, since it was only the three of them. And now that she was working weekends, and would be exclusively working them going forward very soon, her parents wanted as much time with her as possible. To ask her about her day, or what was on her mind. And her in return to do the same for them.  
“Morning Jack,” she said to the flower shop owner as she walked passed him before heading into the café.   
“Morning to you too, love,” the middle-aged man spoke as he arranged the outside of his shop.  
“Morning Damien,” Euphemia chimed along with the shop bell into the café, greeting her manager.  
“Mornin’,” he followed up, without looking up from his phone. A local university student who was studying acting. He was really nice with Euphemia, most her coworkers were. It was just the patrons they always had to watch out for. Any day could bring in any sort of clown.  
“Enjoy your Friday night?” she tossed up a question as she tied the apron around her boy, getting into work mode.  
“Yes, some classmates of mine and I went to a comedy club over in Camden. Then checked out a few pubs nearby, saw some local bands play. Actually was a good night come to think of it,” he stared off into the ceiling.  
“Well that’s nice,” Euphemia piped up with a smile, as she took a spare rag and began to wipe down the tables inside.  
“What about you? Please tell me you did something fun, kid.”  
:”You know me, Fridays and fun don’t go together much,” she lightly joked.  
“Another night in with the folks?”  
“You win,” she swung the rag in the air like it was a white flag in defeat.  
“Ah, come on now, you are so young.”  
“I’m not that much younger than you, Damien.”  
“Alright, fair enough. But you really should treat yourself once in a while, hang with friends?”  
“You say it as if you doubt I have friends.”  
“Not at all! But really, you should do something you want.”  
She took a deep breath in and exhaled before turning around to face him. “Actually, about doing something I want…and don’t be mad, I can manage to work every weekend still should it allow me to, and I think it will…if you’ll still have me…”  
Damien suddenly looked up from his phone with a face of alarm, one that Euphemia could not read. And then he was clearly trying to read her expression as well. Cocking his head to the side ever so slightly, she gave back a little bit of a grin, bearing her teeth. She hated smiling with her teeth though. Nothing wrong with them, she’d had her torment of braces way back when. But she was afraid smiling like this called too much attention to her face, too much attention to her. Something she wasn’t that fond of.  
And then, it hit Damien like a lightning bolt. “Did you?? Is it?? Did you hear back??”  
“From the internship?”  
“YES! Oh my goodness, did you get it girl? Did you??”  
Euphemia’s shoulder’s tensed up to her ears as she took a deep enhale in, then letting it out. “Yessir!”  
“Oh my GOD, congrats kid,” Damien came over to where she was standing and enwrapped her in a bear hug. “That is amazing, I am so happy for you, you’ve been waiting for this. And you’ve earned it, there’s no doubt about that. Of course we’ll still have you though, helping around here when you can. Especially if this is going to take up a fair amount of your time come summer. I’m guessing it will be full-time?” Damien still had his arms wrapped around her as the words kept pouring out of his mouth. But after the question he posed, he took a step back, arms still held out in front of him like he was hugging a ghost. “Wait, you never really did tell us where you had applied…you just said it was an internship.”  
“Yeah,” Euphemia sheepishly turned away, attempting to do some more cleaning.  
“Are you embarrassed about it?”  
“What? No, not at all, far from that, actually.”  
“Is it in line with your parents work? Nothing wrong with getting a job that sort of way.”  
“No, its not in line with social work. Social and work would be two tasks for sure for this.”  
“Well then what is it, kid? Oh god, don’t tell me its for one of those janky sex shops.”  
“My god, no,” Euphemia shook her head in disgust.  
“Government is it? I knew you had an ambition for politics.”  
“No, and I don’t have an ambition for politics,” she told him off. “But…maybe, you are close, with government.”  
“Close? How much closer could I be? You handing out coffee in the Commons or wiping the Prime Minister’s ass?”  
Euphemia dramatically looked around the café, even though it was just the two of them there still. No need to worry about anyone hearing what she was about to reveal. “Okay, you promise not to tell anyone else? You’ll be my secret keeper?”  
“Who me? I’d be honored!”   
Euphemia wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious. “No, Damien, I need you to promise.”  
“Alright, I do, I will. Whatever this may be, I will just tell anyone else that works here that you got a second job.”  
“Thanks, appreciate that.”  
“Well then, what is it? If you’re going to trust me on this, better I know what it actually is.”  
She let out another deep breath and finally exclaimed. “Okay, so it was a couple months ago they put out this thing online, it wasn’t up for very long and I don’t really know how many people were aware of it. But it was like a summer internship-fellowship deal. Specifically for those who were young and had not gone on to university yet, which I found interesting that they wanted even younger. But I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, it sounded really good. Almost too good.”  
“Too good? Do tell, ma’am.”  
Another deep breath, in and out. “Its an internship with the Royal Family, at Kensington Palace. There would be two students who would be given this honor. It doesn’t pay amazing, its almost like a standard sales job fair. But it’s the opportunity to shadow private secretaries and work right alongside the firm. Its not perhaps what I thought I wanted to do with my life, but how could I pass up an opportunity like this? To have a chance at something like this, while still so young. And you and everyone else always tell me I should live a little and take risks. Well, that application was a risk, and so were the several phone and in-person interviews that followed. Now all they need to do is check my background, not that they hadn’t already when narrowing the list down. But I’ll be starting very soon, when school is starting to wind down. So then the point will be after a slow and gradual process of learning the basics early on, when school wraps I will have more time to work at Ken Place and be more involved…in my shadowing or whatever you really want to call this opportunity.”  
“And opportunity it is,” Damien added. “Wow, I’m impressed. Not surprised you’d get something like this, you deserve it, truly. But this opportunity really does sound like a once in a lifetime chance.”  
“That’s why I took it,” Euphemia smiled back, and then turned to clean off more tables. She called behind her shoulder, “But remember, try not to tell anyone. I can’t afford people pestering me all the time, asking questions I may not have answers to.”  
“Your secret is safe with me,” Damien now called from behind the counter as he started to warm up the cannisters and check on the treats in the oven in the back. Now that Euphemia had told someone else her big secret, she felt a hundred kilograms lighter. The rest of the day would go by as it usually did, especially for a Saturday. Some usual customers coming in at their specific times, ordering their usual coffees or teas, seeing what sort of treats that might have been baked already. Today was pretty regular, every kind of croissant and Danish you could imagine, with a few buns and cakes left out in their cases for view. Because it was a fairly nice day out, they even had more customers than expected, which was not a bad thing. It really kept Euphemia on her toes, and every time her or Damien got face to face with each other, he’d quickly and casually shoot up a finger to his lips as if he were about to hiss “Shh!” because of their little secret they now shared. It’s a good thing Damien took it well, as her parents, well, they certainly had a reaction you could say.  
Euphemia couldn’t help but drift and think about how and when she told them last night. It was a typical Friday night for the Arains. All three of them in the flat, her mother having cooked for their special weekly meal. It was already starting to get dark outside. As they all sat there, forking through their mixture of noodles and veggies, Euphemia decided to tell them the good news. She had not even told them she applied to an internship so when she mentioned that she got an internship, her parents dropped their forks in astonishment. They were so impressed, but also shocked that she hadn’t told them. She said it was just her little secret, as she really didn’t think anything would come of it. Then she detailed how there had been several interviews leading up until the end, and that finally that day, after school, she got a call saying she was one of the two to fulfill the position. Then, just like with Damien, she dropped the hammer on who and where she would be working…  
“Its an internship, at Kesnignton Palace,” Euphemia’s voice trailed and grew quiet the more words she spoke.  
Now her parents really looked at her in astonishment, and even further confusion if that could be had. Then again, it really didn’t take much to throw her parents off. Even the littlest of things would make them dramatically gasp in shock. “What on earth could you be doing having an internship there?” her father prompted.  
“Well, it seems like I, and the other intern, would be shadowing the private secretaries who work for the Prince and Princess of Wales, as well as their family. Its not like I’d become a secretary per say, but having the opportunity to learn the ropes.”  
“Is that really what you want as a profession, sweetheart? Doctors make a lot more than them,” her mother offered.  
“Mum, this isn’t about my future career, really. I still don’t know exactly what I want to do. Medicine, law, art, who knows. I just applied because how often does an opportunity like this arise? I’ve never heard of a position like this in the past. And, you two and all my friends always tell me to live a little more of my life. Well, for me that doesn’t mean I have to go out and party or drink—”  
“We most certainly hope not,” her father butted in.  
“But you know that I enjoy working, even my job at the café. Sure it doesn’t sound glorious, and I wasn’t taking this internship to be fabulous or something. Its just to have an opportunity to do something new. One must live their life to the fullest, that’s what everyone always says. Well, I like working, and I like people, and yes customer service has prepared me for all sides of that, but this would be different. It would be educational, too. So I don’t see it as a privilege for riches, I see it as a privilege to grow as a person.”  
“You are a very brilliant girl, Fefe,” her mother complimented. “But why you taking something like this? It could be a very big responsibility, you know.”  
“Yes, and it very well will be if I had to throw out a guess. But I’m not going to let this pass by.”  
“Since when have you been so fascinated with the Royal Family, dear?” her father asked.  
“I’m not obsessed with them if that’s what you’re asking,” Euphemia looked down at her foot and twirled it.  
“Isn’t one of their children your age? The youngest one, what’s his name?”  
“Yes, I think he is her age,” her mother agreed. “Louis, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah, I guess,” Euphemia shrugged. Of course she knew that was his name, how could she not? Every girl her age and aroud it knew that. All her friends had crushes on him the older he got. It was weird at twelve to like the prince because he was so young. But now that he was seventeen and becoming more of a man, Euphemia couldn’t help but admire him from a far. Not that she wanted to date him or something, but she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity should it arise. And no, that was not the reason she applied either…mostly.  
“Well, hopefully you are not thinking of this as a way to become his girlfriend,” her father said. “I am no monarchist, and I’m not a republican either, but there is so much drama around those people, and everyone gives them such praise. Think about what has happened to all the other outsider women that have been through that family, how many of them have survived without divorce.”   
“Hardly any,” her mother sipped some of her water.  
Euphemia kept her head down and prayed that someone would change the subject, which her parents quickly did to tell her about their day, and then ask how the rest of her day had been besides this new job that they were still perplexed about.  
Well, here she was, still standing the next day. And she was going to do this internship, no matter what anyone said. Damien supported her, that was good enough. And eventually she would tell her girlfriends in confidence as well. They’ll all probably shriek with glee, so maybe she better not tell them right away. They might spill the beans or something. And she really didn’t want that many people knowing about this private part of her life. On second thoughts, maybe it was bad telling her parents. They would not be able to keep the secret about this, whether they agreed with the role or not. But what was she going to do? Just not tell them at all?  
But there was a certain kind of beauty in keeping this private from the world. Its not like the position asked her to not reveal it publicly. But Euphemia felt this send of pride that she should, it was the right thing to do. And whenever it would be needed that she step forward and reveal this truth, than so be it. Besides, she wouldn’t be the only one having to suffer the scrutiny.   
Yes, who was this other intern? What were they like? He or she? What were their intentions?


	5. Ryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is 2035 and we are looking at a not-so-distant future into the political and monarchy landscapes of the Western and Eastern world, and the new generation of kids that are growing up in it. Archie just wants to break free from his Pacific prison to find out more about the royal side he never had a chance at getting to know; Louis is contemplating that exact royal life he loves for one of a photography passion that at times crosses into territory that was the reason for his own grandmother's death; Mac is the youngest son of the Prime Minister of the newly-stated Independent Party, and is looking to stake out on his own independence even if it will cause him to be in the public sphere more than he already is; Euphemia is a bright girl who is given the opportunity of a lifetime to intern at one of the greatest jobs ever, even if she feels people on her back for her Pakistan-British heritage; and then Ryan who is the son of the American Ambassador just trying to find his footing in this strange land and the world as he comes into his own.
> 
> Full of love, humor, sadness, hope and adventure, this is the first part of a long volume on the Future Modern Royals and their friends.

Chapter Five  
Ryan

A Saturday luncheon, how original.  
Ryan had grown pretty accustomed to these gatherings, and by that he also meant pretty bored. Its not like his parents had other people over, it was just them, him, and his siblings. And the staff of course. Occasionally Ryan’s family would go to his father’s parents on a Sunday for a roast, but his grandparents rarely accepted invitations to these luncheons. Maybe they thought they were just as boring as he did. And he couldn’t be like his younger siblings and barely eat and then run off with a toy or gadget. He was the eldest of four, but even then his parents wouldn’t allow him a glass of wine. His parents would ask him the stereotypical questions they already asked him during the week. How was school going? Was he making any friends? Why didn’t he bring any around? Why hadn’t he brought a girl around yet? He shouldn’t be so shy!  
Well, mom and dad, he would think to himself, I’m glad I am no longer at that boarding school where I was ridiculed every waking moment from class till bed, and then repeat the next day. Being back here, closer to London, attending a day school not too far from their residence, was marginally better, but not exponentially. He hadn’t made many friends, just a few but he didn’t even know if they saw him as a friend. So he was struggling in that department, let alone dating anyone.  
Oh, because by the way, parents, I’m gay.  
Yep, your fifteen year old, biracial, dual citizen British-American, eldest son is a big old queer, as the kids at his last school would taunt him. They knew before he did, doesn’t it always seem to be that way for some gay youth?  
“Look at this,” his mother threw her hand across the table to shove her phone near her husbands face. “These people are absolutely ridiculous, starting to call shots on nominees. Saying its ‘her time’, please, that trick didn’t work in their favor almost twenty years ago, did it?”  
“No, it did not darling,” Ryan’s father George commented. “Don’t know why they are pulling out the acts again.”  
“Oh, its all they know how to do,” Candace, Ryan’s mother, responded. “We already have the house and the top man in position. How are they going to touch us?”  
“Not a chance,” her husband’s British brogue laughed.  
“And yet here you two are, away from all the real action. Some trust in you, huh mum?” Ryan decided to throw in. Even though he had a plain American accent, there were certain phrases and words he used from this side of the pond. And he knew above that that these sort of comments riled up his parents, especially his mother. Candace Owens had had a very…interesting “political” career one could say. She was a famous speaker and New York Times bestselling author five times over, he had to give her that. And she landed a knock-off British lord as a husband at a young age. But when she was appointed the American Ambassador for Great Britain in this new American government a few years ago, it wasn’t perhaps the job she was hoping to have. While she was instrumental and truly passionate along the campaign trails, her time was nearly up for the little she had accomplished as an actual pseudo-politician. And the fact her husband was from this country, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to send her away. Give her a job of importance, per say, and the place her husband was from. “Think of how good this will be for the children, learning about their father’s heritage,” even though Ryan knew if his father could control DNA by hand, he would erase any part of his British existence. He had become a full, red-blooded and hearted American the moment the two of them got together.  
Candace rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, the beautiful interior decoration that was all theirs. Ryan knew he had put her in her place for the moment. “And how has school been, Ryan?”  
“Fine,” he offered back, as he messed around with his fork and food.  
“Have you thought about getting involved in anything?”  
“School is almost over, father.”  
“Well, perhaps something for the summer?”  
“Sorry we can’t get you any political position here,” Candace started. “Not that your views totally align with ours.”  
“No, not necessarily, I’d say,” Ryan could care less what his parents thought of that response. But he figured he’d drop the bomb now, a different bomb than the one he’d been burning with for a few years. No, this one was only a few many hours since yesterday afternoon. He was too excited yesterday to tell them, but now seemed like a better time than ever. Besides, he had the floor, why not give the people what they wanted? “Actually, there is something I meant to tell you both last night, but it slipped my mind. It does involve me having plans for the summer.”  
“You’re not backpacking through Europe,” George stepped in.  
“I wasn’t going to suggest that—”  
“What then? Are you going back home because you hate it here so much?”  
Ryan paused, and took a deep breath in before responding. “Its funny hearing you put it that way, mother, as I don’t really hate it here. Sure I have struggled to adjust, but what do you expect? Its been a weird few years to say the least. And maybe it’s about to get even weirder, in a good way though.”  
“What world do weird and good exist together?”  
“Normal society?” Ryan proposed this to his dumbfounded father. “Anyways, I got an internship for the summer. Sort of, well, they are calling it an internship. But it also feels like an apprenticeship, or maybe a fellowship…freelance? A work study without being at university? I’m not so sure. In any case, I got it.”  
“Is it with a university?” Candace asked.  
“Oh no,” Ryan shook his head. “Technically it is an institution.”  
“One of the big banks? Son, I’m so proud of you,” George complimented.  
“No…not that either,” Ryan bowed his head down. His parents were waiting for an answer, they were done guessing. Typical of them, its not like they knew much or enough about Ryan to keep guessing. The relationship had always been so distant. The two of them so focused on their careers, never having enough time for their one son, eldest son to be exact. Ryan’s siblings couldn’t see this now as they were much younger, but maybe, just maybe, by the time they got older Candace and George will have changed…a bit…maybe not, but one could hope!  
He finally conceded defeat and announced, “Its with Kensington Palace.”  
There, he’d said it, and nothing more. Just four words left in the air for his two parents to guess what it could mean.  
“An internship with the Royal Family?” Candace’s voice was beyond shock.  
“Since when was that ever a thing?”  
“Oh this is definitely a hoax, no way.”  
“Please, just stop it, alright you two?” Ryan begged. His one moment to shine and prove something to his parents, and he blew it. Well, maybe he didn’t, but they did. He had just an inkling they would not respond well to this. “It is legitimate, considering how many interviews over the phone and then a couple in person that I underwent. And if you still think I am being pranked, its not like I couldn’t have researched the people I was interviewing with ahead of time. This is all real, they are hosting two young interns this summer, who will be shadowing the private secretaries for the Prince and Princess of Wales and their family. I will be reporting to the secretaries though and learning a thing or two about that business.”  
“What made you consider even applying, son?” George questioned, hands on the table.  
“Look, everyone makes it out like I’m totally miserable. Well, I’m not a hundred percent miserable, but I definitely feel out of place here. And everyone wants me to do something, not just here but with my life. And if I really do want to become a journalist or work in public relations, this opportunity seems like a dream come true. Besides just that, I would really get a sense and perhaps better understanding and education of this nation.”  
“The House of Commons could provide you that.”  
“But I don’t want to be political, I’m sorry if that hurts you. I want to write, that’s all. And a job like this would not only give me working experience, but responsibility and activity.”  
“I can’t say most teenagers burn to have an internship at your age,” George mumbled.  
“With the Royal Family,” Candace was still stuck on this point. Not only was she a firm Republican in America, she was basically a Republican here and had no love or affection for the firm. “That’s still pretty political.”  
“Not exactly, mum,” Ryan stated. “They stay neutral.”  
“And make nice with everyone possible, the liars and the cheats both,” George added.  
“Look,” Ryan turned to his mother, “I know your career in journalism didn’t pan out as you had hoped, I’m sorry. But you and I are not the same person, okay? I have different ambitions. I have different desires.”  
“Please, are you fifteen or fifty, talking to me like that?”  
“Mummy,” Ryan hadn’t called her that in ages. “I’m not a child anymore. I’m trying to be an adult, and an adult thing to do would be going out and getting a job that betters one’s self.”  
“This is hardly a job, are they even paying you?”  
Ryan turned to George, “They are, yes, maybe not as handsomely as one would expect. But most who work for the firm only make a small amount. It is not about that though, it is the privilege to serve and learn, and how opportunities like this can really open doors for the future. That is all I’m asking for, for maybe this to be my big leap and jumping point.”  
“Well,” Candace consented. “It is important you learn to be responsible, and even if your father and I haven’t said it, that was very good of you to apply on your own. Can’t say many youth have that sort of aspiration.”  
“Thank you,” Ryan spat out.  
“Can’t deny that that determination you earned from us. Maybe that is all, but that you surely did.”  
Ryan ignored that last comment and carried on with the rest of his salad as his parents droned on about their own business, discussing whether or not they should go out tonight to a friends’ of theirs house party. No kids allowed, Ryan would be forced to babysit his siblings. Not that he really had to babysit them, they were all quite dependable on themselves once you gave them an iPad to distract them with. Simple as that. And then Ryan could be off on his own, reading a book or something.  
Which is exactly where he found himself after the luncheon. Grabbing the latest crime novel he was reading, he sauntered outside and through the backyard until he found a tree to sit under. He’d pulled on a sweater too even though it was spring, he still felt a little chilly. Maybe it was from the reception he received earlier rather than the weather currently outside. No matter, he was finally alone and left to his own devices, something he was best at. Although moments like these did send shocks down his spine, and remind him of when he was at boarding school not too long ago. Especially on weekends when he wanted to go outside and enjoy some sunshine. It wasn’t fair that he just stay inside and read or write because he had no friends to hang with or was into playing any sports with classmates. So he’d sneak off to a secluded area where no one could find him…for a few weeks. Then that special spot would be revealed and he’d be back on the hunt for another one…and then another. Most times, his classmates would just come up from behind and tease and taunt him, because they knew he wouldn’t fight or speak back. They didn’t steal his books and pens from him, and they didn’t throw racial or American-bias slurs at him. It was in fact hard to even tell that Ryan was half black, his skin was very off white and his hair dark, but his eyes were pretty fair in color. And he was fairly short too, his parents hoping that when he went away to college or university that he might grow a few more inches. But mostly, his classmates liked to torment him because, well, they knew they could get away with it.  
What would all those boys think now, if they heard that Ryan had an internship lined up at Ken Place? My, my, my, they would be seething that someone such as him could land a position. This is not the sort of thing they’d tease and taunt him that it was too girly, when in fact this was a privilege beyond privileges. Perhaps some of them would say he only got there because of his mother’s name, but Ryan Farmer does not necessarily register immediately to people of who his mother is in the world over. In fact, if anything, Ryan truly got this position on his own merit. Maybe that’s why his parents did not care about him securing it? That could be part of it, whether they acknowledge it or not. But also, Ryan knew that his parents just were not fans of the Royal Family at all. Even though they were ambassadors based here, there really wasn’t that much to their job other than being a presence. They did not attend that many functions, even the ones that the Royal Family attended or hosted. Of course there was the need for a relationship between Ryan’s mother and the current U.K. Prime Minister, but considering their right wing views were not in full alignment, that relationship was abysmal at best. Truly, Candace being given this position was more like exile than reward. There was every trail of why this sounded “politically advantageous” but not because of their British links, but just to get her out of the picture.  
And so no matter what Candace or George did, nothing ever felt like enough. And the same went for Ryan in their eyes. He was either not doing enough or in fact doing nothing at all. Well, now he had an internship on the line. Yes, accepted and all. Starting in only a matter of time to be honest, whenever this background check would hopefully pass through. Not that Ryan had anything to be afraid of, he had no bad rap sheet or criminal record. But the thought of being background checked just gave him this feeling of anxiety, of someone looking into his life. It was truly like however he felt when one of the bullies would lean over his shoulder as he hid and read a book somewhere secluded in the quad of the campus. And again, like many times before, he got to throw out to them again about his ambitions to be a journalist. Its not like he was hoping to be a famous broadcaster, Ryan really just wanted to write. And working on an opportunity like the one at Ken Place seemed like a great chance. Maybe learn a little bit more about how the palace system helped the royals with writing up their speeches and making plans for trips. Like he said to his parents, this could really open doors to future careers, of any kind. How many people can say they worked a job like this?  
Plus, Ryan was still so young! Not even sixteen and getting the opportunity to work a job like this. When they moved here a few years ago, Ryan would never have predicted this would play out in his life. He thought he would be doomed to a lonely existence here after everything. And if his mother’s president did not win re-election the following year, they would most certainly be packing up and heading home. Not that Ryan would mind being back in America, but even there he had few friends. At least, he figured, he did have some friends there. But friends who, at the time before his move, did not know he was gay. Or at least he had not had the chance to tell them yet what he was slowly struggling with. It still felt too early, but then in England he had gathered his bearings especially after all that time alone. But now he was distant from those kids, only on occasion reaching out to wish someone happy birthday. The time change is something they’d always say made it so difficult to stay in touch. Really it was Ryan’s own anxiety to keep relationships up. He felt undeserving of them, undeserving of a lot.   
But here and now was this internship at Ken Place, something he worked towards on his own, getting it on his own in fact. This was something to be proud of. For once in his life, Ryan felt like there was some chance at happiness in the future. Working alongside people, learning on the job, and in fact having a partner in crime learning with him. Maybe he’d be nice, or she. Perhaps this would be a friend for Ryan, someone he could empathize with. Someone he could lean on.


	6. Archie/Marcus/Euphemia/Louis/Ryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this next chapter, the POVs flip around between the five main characters. You get a little more insight into their everyday lives, such as school, volunteer work, and the start of the internship at Ken Place. This chapter also delves a little further into the psyche of these five characters and their close relationships with family members, for better or worse.

Chapter Six  
Archie

School was winding down for the year, final exams around the corner and everyone discussing their summer plans. Those who were going to camps or had summer jobs, and mostly those that would be traveling or spending the majority of the season away from their primary residences. As for Archie? No job, his mother would say he didn’t need one right now. He never really attended a sleep away camp so that was out of the question at this age. There were always different charities and organizations he could help his mom out and volunteer with. He did enjoy that, although the older he got the more unreliable he realized his mother could be with constantly showing up and helping at the shelters and food pantries. Even at the age of thirteen he would call his own Uber rides to take him where he needed when she suddenly could not go, and Nana Dede wasn’t well enough to take him. But now that he was sixteen, he could drive himself. When it came to getting a car, he didn’t want anything flashy. Archie wanted something modest and could almost be mistaken for a suburban soccer mom vehicle. It was better that way, more unsuspecting.  
And with school winding down, and after hearing everyone talk about their luxurious and fabulous plans, Archie decided to go to one of the pantries he frequented. At this point he was allowed to drop in and help out. They knew who he was and were always more than happy to have more volunteers. So the moment the final school bell rang he darted out of the building and rushed for his car before anyone could see him, and scampered as fast as a rabbit out of the school lot. Of course the traffic in L.A. was never fun, but he knew enough back roads at this point to weasel his way to where he needed to go. As he pulled into the parking lot he registered a few familiar cars that were typically here any given day of the week. He stepped out of his car, ripped off his school jacket and tie, and switched out of the dress shoes for an old pair of sneakers he always kept in the car just in case he needed. Perhaps a button down shirt and slacks seemed to formal to stock food, but that wasn’t the point. Besides, Archie would very likely be throwing on a volunteer apron once he got inside.  
“Hey there Judi,” Archie declared as he walked through the front.  
“Hey baby, what’s cooking?” the older receptionist and one of the leaders of the pantry greeted him. She came around from behind her desk and wrapped him in a big hug. “Glad you’re here, is your momma parking the car?”  
“No, its just me. I actually came right from school.”  
“Awh, I see. Don’t you have finals you should be studying for?”  
“Yeah—I’ll get to them, I just needed to take my mind off things, ya know?”  
“Ahh, I see,” she winked back. “Go on now, you know the drill, ain’t gotta tell you twice now, child.”  
“You got that right,” Archie called back as he beamed and smiled  
He passed a few others by the kitchen area, calling out a hey to Pam and Lorelle, grabbing an apron off the hook and heading further towards the back where the main pantry was and he recognized the man crouched over even if he couldn’t see his head.  
“Hey Jon!”  
The older man stood up and turned around, stuck his hand out and exclaimed, “Good to see you again, sir.”  
“Always good to see you too,” Archie shook his hand back, and then tied the band around his back. “So, looks like we got a huge donation recently, or someone has been neglecting this task?”  
“Oh yeah, some group stopped by earlier today to drop these ‘few things’ off,” the two of them had a laugh at the amount of cans and boxes surrounding them. “You can actually start on the pile over there, that would be a huge help.”  
“Of course,” Archie said as he walked over to the other side of the bank about six feet away, and starting stacking some cans into place. Most of this food that had been provided came in big boxes, so it was a matter of sorting through all of that and categorizing where they each needed to go. Actually made the job take longer then, but thankfully Archie had become a master at this and it wasn’t so bad once you got going.  
He had gone through a couple of boxes when he landed on some spare tabloid magazines hidden between the boxes. Seeing and touching these papers was like touching lava to Archie: his body instantly pulsing back at the heat they gave off. But it seemed like the covers were talking about celebrities he really didn’t care about, until he got to the fourth one in the pile and saw something that caught his attention. A small inset on the cover, talking about his aunt, Kate, the Princess of Wales. Nothing horrible or too flashy, one of those rag-tag articles that was filled with fluff and had no basis. An article she nor anyone she knew probably provided information for about her so-called palace life. Archie had learned over time a thing or two about how these games could be played, and how his own parents had played with fire and ultimately got burned. Especially in their own regards when they offered and offered so much. But once you are of no substance or are seen for who you truly are, irrelevance is not even enough of a word. You simply just do not exist, except for the pity party of supporters that still cling to your glory days. Hollywood celebrities and society personalities fell to this trap time and time again, and politicians on any side of the spectrum succumbed to it perhaps at even more threatening alarms.  
The photos of his aunt in this magazine were probably used in a dozen other editions of this publications, photos of her out and about working and speaking with the charities and organizations she represented for the firm. All while looking effortlessly glamorous. She was beautiful when she met his uncle at university, when they got married, during the times they started their young family, up until now where she still looked much younger than her actual age. It would only be a matter of time before she would have to start gearing up for her biggest role yet, one that she understood would someday come true the moment she said “I do” to her fiancé nearly two and a half decades ago.  
Also, looking at some of the other pictures laid out in the spread, he got glimpses of his uncle, his cousins, and their different homes. It did all look luxurious, but Archie could compete with that considering his ocean front view from his bedroom. But there was something more to this, and it wasn’t good graphic design arranging the files on a page. It was the actual substance of these personal photos. Personal, that was the best way to put it. Surely Archie had learned how personable his parents could both be, on individual basis and as a former star couple status. But it was their lack of personality with their own son at best of times that really threw him off from glancing at these family pictures. The way they all seemed to interact with each other, knowing that perhaps these were probably old posed Christmas card pictures. But the sense of unity, the sense of just being together. It was something he lacked with his own parents. His mother, for how much he knew she loved him deep down, was forever self-consumed with herself and making money. Even if that meant neglecting those that helped you or try to. Then there was his father, who want for a better word made Archie feel like his mother was a single parent. Of course, using the term parent now that he was a teenager really didn’t fit Meghan’s outlook. He was practically another assistant to her, her only reliable one. Considering how many had quit or been fired under her, except this boy had no signed contract. He had no deal, with either of his parents. Well, minus the one promise his father had once been better at keeping up.   
When Harry went away to serve his country again, and not the army this time but the Royal Marines, Archie asked him to write to him, as much and as often as he could. That way Archie would know where his father would be, where he was writing from, what it was like there, even if it was dreary and drab. Archie wanted to feel the essence, no, the presence of his father no matter how many miles away or deep under the sea he may have gone. And all those letters typically were signed with a heart at the end and the letter “H”, of course after he wrote a “ – Dad”. But now there hadn’t been a letter, in months. But that felt like years. No phone call or even a text message with a simple “How are you, son?”. Nothing, absolutely nothing. If something serious had happened, Archie was sure he would have been told about it. There is no way that the navy would keep that from Harry’s own kin, or that Harry’s own royal kin would keep something like that private from him.  
“You alright there, sir?” Jon asked, not turning around, only noticing the lack of movement from his partner.  
“Yeah, sorry,” Archie quickly defended himself and threw the magazine down into an emptied box, and then quickly picked up some cans of corn and beans and started to stock them in their respective shelves.   
But what about this royal kin of his? What would they know about his father? Did they know anything of his whereabouts or what he had been up to? Did they even bother to keep tabs on him? It seemed that this side of the family Archie belonged to really kept themselves at a distance from Archie and his parents, and he had read enough articles and stories to understand why. In fact, he had looked at it and examined it from both ends. One of those perspectives that he lived out and experienced, but the other…not so much. In fact, not at all. It wasn’t like Archie had a relationship with any of those relatives. All these years they had never even reached out to him, but he could understand why. His parents had never allowed the time for him to establish a relationship with them. Constantly keeping him out of the public eye, whilst constantly throwing themselves in to the limelight at every opportunity. And post split how much they’d finally realized that the light hadn’t wanted them for a good while already. Meanwhile Archie was sidelined, forgotten, not given a chance or say.  
But maybe that needed to change. He had just turned sixteen not too long ago, and summer was upon him. Perhaps the end of school wouldn’t mean a time of him helping others, but helping himself for once. Helping him find his way in this world, but yet also a world he knew nothing about.

Marcus

“So where you headed Lou?” Thomas piped up  
All the boys were surrounding Prince Louis as they exited the school for the day. Mac standing the closest as always, keeping his head down. He could tell Louis did not want to be bothered as he had not glanced up from his phone. All the other boys waited on edge for whatever Louis had to say, or do. Long ago, Marcus had learned that it wasn’t worth it to be overly enamored with his royal highness. Actually, Louis made sure of that, telling him he preferred it if they acted normal. And now that Marcus’ father was thrown into the limelight, he totally understood on a whole new level why his best friend was this way.  
“You thinking of having a night on Friday?” Antony threw out a light suggestion.  
Louis still didn’t budge.  
Stephan budged in, “Could be fun, one of the last hurrahs before exams are upon us in a few weeks—"  
“Oh shut up,” Louis mumbled.  
“You alright there, mate?” Marcus finally whispered.  
“Yeah, sorry, not you number four,” Louis quickly looked up at Stephan.  
“Family stuff, eh?” Mac asked.  
“Yeah, I forgot, something happening at home later.”  
“Something bad?” Thomas asked with an anxious tone.  
“No, everything is fine, alright boys,” Louis shook his head. “Its all perfectly fine and nothing, but also legitimately something happening.”  
“Well let us know if you need anything,” Antony offered.  
“I won’t,” Louis teased. “You coming or what, Abbs?”  
Abbs was just one of the many nicknames Louis was allowed to call Mac. It sounded a little feminine but that didn’t bother Mac, because it came from Prince Louis so no one was challenging him or making fun of him. And in the last year sometimes he’d call him Minister just as Louis had always been called Highness. It was sweet, but Mac would never say that out loud to anyone. He didn’t have a real crush on his best friend, it was always a soft one. He admired him, that was the best way of putting it, not just because he had good looks but because he could tell Louis authentically cared for him like he were his brother. They also both had a shared bond of being the youngest child in their family. And now that they could easily be on the cover of the papers any given day, they really had each other’s backs.  
And yet, Mac still felt like he couldn’t come out to the one other kid he could trust.  
The two of them piled into the back seat of the car here to pick-up Louis from school. Usually Mac caught a ride with him as they could either drop him off nearby to where the two of them lived or they would be hanging at one of the other’s places, either to hang or actually attempt their studies. Well, Mac would attempt his studies as Louis would take a break from school and develop film in his dark room or edit digital pictures on his laptop. “You know, I don’t know if Stephan appreciates being called that.”  
“Please, he’s a big boy, it shouldn’t bother him. If it does, then that’s his own problem.”  
“Then which is number two and three? Antony and Thomas, or Thomas and Antony?”  
“Interchangeable at best.”  
“And that leaves number…”  
“You. Technically one, but you actually get real nicknames.”  
“And I appreciate that,” Mac smirked. “Where does that leave you?”  
“I don’t need a number for my group of friends,” Louis scoffed, “I’m already my own version of number four. And then some day number five, and then six, and so on…” Louis’ voice grew quieter at that notion.   
Mac knew what he was talking about: the royal succession. They rarely talked about this topic because it always seemed to never bother Louis. He loved his two older siblings, and thus being the third child had the most freedom. That freedom is where his friend took up photography quite seriously, but at the same time still followed all the right protocols he had to live under. Louis did not seem like the type that would give up his lifestyle. Mac always took the hint that Louis was quite comfortable this way, doing what he had to do and would need to do in the future, while on the side having fun with his art but also getting to go out and be with friends like Mac. Except Louis was in this for life. Some day, Mac would not be in the public eye as much. One day, his father would no longer be Prime Minister and Mac would not have to attend events and galas and foreign affair dinners. He would slowly fade into the background, be relevant, but also exist in silence. Very similarly to what he knew would some day be the case for the children of Louis and his future wife. They would be popular and known, but their role would not be of one equivalent to their parents. Duty would always come first and their public appearance would need to be tight. But then when you even got to their children, or children’s children, they would enter the similar realm Mac would some day be a part of.  
“So can I ask…what was bugging you on the phone? About needing to be home?”  
“What?” Louis was back looking at his phone. “Oh, right, yeah. You can’t tell anyone this.”  
“Swear it,” Mac put his arm across his heart.  
“For some reason, the palace has decided to hire two interns for a fellowship this summer, but interns who are minors, so around our age, and not left yet for university. They will be reporting to Ken Place, I’m not so sure if any of the other households are getting interns, my guess is no. It sounds cool to have interns for the Prince and Princess of Wales, doesn’t it? But also very…odd. This is something that has never happened before, which is why I need you to not tell anyone about it. Not yet at least, I am sure by summer it will be too late to keep it private and the world will find out. But the palace, and especially my parents, want to protect these two interns, whoever they might be.”  
“Because I take it they are private citizens?”  
“Well yes, and they are not full-time employees,” Louis added. “But their privacy is probably upmost importance right now, no one can know about this. Not right away at least. Think of it like a huge secret that you can’t tell the world, or are afraid to. You know what I mean, mate?”  
Mac knew that feeling all too well. Oh brother, was this the moment he came out to his best friend? Of all times? Well, its not like he had to have the perfect moment for it. If he had learned anything from the forums he read online, coming out did not have to be this perfect, crystal clear moment. It could happen at any time, or for any reason in that moment. Perhaps to defend one’s self or help steer someone away from prejudice, and explain how their comments made you feel. Its not like Louis had done any of that, but it was the gut feeling Mac had as he sat next to him that Louis was at least a little on to him.  
“Anyways,” Louis continued on, looking out the window, “you don’t mind if we just drop you off at home today, do you now? I don’t know what its going to be like at Ken Place. But I’ll make sure you come over soon enough anyways and get to meet the interns, if they are cool enough. Or even if they are not, just because I’ve let you in on the secret I can’t just tease you along now.”  
Damnit, was Louis much smarter and more in tune than Mac gave him credit for? Just because Mac had better grades didn’t necessarily mean he knew all that was meant to be known. Perhaps Louis was just able to understand his friend even when he had not come clean.  
“Yeah, totally cool mate,” Mac said in a soft tone, and then looked out his window.  
Louis turned around and said, “Everything alright with you?”  
“Yeah,” Mac shrugged off, “just tired I guess.”  
“Ahh, right, you had that big dinner this past weekend. How was that?”  
“I’d rather not talk about it,” Mac said, immediately thinking of Luca.  
“I get it, stuff like that can be boring,” Louis commented. “Sometimes it can be fun, if there is good food. Or good company.”  
“You got that right.”  
Louis stated, “I’ll make it up to you, why don’t we go out this weekend, huh? I’ll get together the whole set.”  
“You think any of them will be around town?”  
“I can see if they are,” Louis confirmed. “But just don’t tell the guys from school, alright?”  
“Permission to not tell any of those friends? Gladly accepted,” this made Mac feel lighter.  
Louis laughed it off, “Good,” and smiled. “I’m really lucky to have a friend like you, Abbs.”  
Mac got all red in the face, “No,” he clarified, “its me who is the lucky one.”

Euphemia

“Hello,” Euphemia coughed up, as she eyed up the security guard.  
“Name, please?”  
“Euphemia Arain…I—I have an appointment, no,” she stumbled. “I’m supposed to be here—”  
“One moment miss,” the security guard turned around and made a quick call. Within moments after completing this action, there was not one but two new guards approaching. The first guard told her to follow these two gentlemen, which she did without another word out of her mouth. They took her through the gates and down a path she could not have noticed from outside the gate just a few moments earlier. Then this path winded its own way into what felt like a whole other world. It was like she was all of a sudden in a quiet village in the middle of one of the loudest cities in the world. It felt like she had truly stepped into the pages of a fairy tale book land. It all felt, other worldly almost. The little apartments and cottages that lined along all these other new paths. If this had been a fantasyland then Euphemia was just waiting for people to start piling in and out of the doors and windows and greet her like they had known her forever. Instead, it remained very quiet, almost too quiet, but because of this she was able to take it all in. Not that that would be needed, it would not be the last time she saw these buildings and walked through the gardens of Kensington Palace.  
This was only the beginning of one incredible summer.  
The guards said nothing to her, so she figured best not ask them any questions as well. It wasn’t until they had reached Apartment 1A did they say something to the guards waiting outside this apartment. Euphemia wondered if there were usually guards outside of this apartment. It wasn’t like it was Buck House where everybody knew there were guards at the gate and the front doors of that palace. This was technically someone’s residence, and while security was the utmost of importance for the future heirs to the throne, Euphemia couldn’t shake the feeling someone stood on guard at all times in the same sort of way it was done in days of long past. The guards at this door opened it for her with swift bows of her head and she figured she best step right inside.  
Inside was not a Versailles like foyer. But that doesn’t meant the interior decoration wasn’t regal. But it had its modern flairs to it, signaling this was still a young family that lived here. This was no medieval king or queen. A blonde woman easily in her fifties appeared at that moment with a clipboard and said, “Welcome to Kensington Palace, Euphemia,” sticking her hand out.  
It certainly caught Euphemia off guard to be immediately be called by her name. But after all, like everything else so far, it made total sense. Strangers and unannounced visitors were not a frequent thing in a royal household, unless they arrived with the royal member themselves. This was a very different landscape she was walking into, something her parents kept telling her again and again the last few weeks while she was preparing for this day. She wondered if the other intern suffered the same fate from their parents.  
“Hello,” Euphemia perked up and shook hands with the private secretary, she assumed.  
“My name is Amanda, please, follow me this way,” the woman turned on her heel and Euphemia immediately fell in line.  
She had the opportunity to walk in silence again and look around at her surroundings she would be getting used to very soon. The colors were beautiful pastels on the walls with a mixture of modern and ancient family art along the walls. It was the perfect balance of old and new, something that Euphemia believed the Royal Family probably had to maintain in order to stay relevant and also timeless. As they passed doorways, she caught glimpses of other people moving about and going about their tasks and chores. Euphemia had not seen a member of the family yet, imagining they must all be out and possibly spend less time here than anyone actually was left to believe.  
They entered a sitting room that had several couches and arm chairs and some tables around. No one else was in here yet, so Euphemia took that to mean she was first. Unless, if it were possible, the other intern turned down the opportunity. Who would though? Unless their parents didn’t want them involved. Euphemia considered herself lucky enough in that regard that while her parents were not as enthusiastic, they were still very supportive of this new adventure. But if she were the only intern, did that mean more work? And what was the work even going to entail? The job description was enough to catch one’s attention, but Euphemia was still curious as to how vast or extreme this role would become.  
“Please sit,” Amanda said. “The other intern shall be arriving soon, and then we will begin to go over things.”  
“Thank you,” Euphemia sunk into a cushion, thinking that was the right thing to say.  
Amanda was looking at her phone and checking over the clipboard she had been carrying. It seems the room had been prepared for this meeting, as she went into a closet and picked out a box, then dropping it onto a sitting window sill. It made a great thud even with the cushion that deafened some of the sound. Goodness, Euphemia thought, what on earth could be in there if it was heavy? Bricks that were originally not used to construct this palace? And then, Amanda was going back into that same closet and pulling out a set of envelopes. Euphemia began to wonder what was in those, perhaps agreement forms? Detailing how under any circumstances they could not publicly talk about this job? Not unless given direct approval? Euphemia still hadn’t told her girlfriends at school that she was embarking on this. Everyone would just have to believe that she was still working a majority of the time at the café. And if not, most of those friends were used to Euphemia devoting an enormous amount of time to her studies. It was certainly going to be an interesting balance going forward.  
Then a different security detail came into the room, “The other intern, Ms. Wilson.”  
“Ah, thank you Eddy,” Amanda did not lift her head up from the box she was buried into.  
Euphemia turned around just as a boy around her age, perhaps even a little younger, came into the room. He had tan skin, but it was almost like he had been to the south of France ahead of the summer season, not like he was of similar descent to Euphemia. And his hair was not raven black but more dark chocolate. His eyes were interesting, they were fair colored. Euphemia could not tell if they were blue, green, or grey. He wasn’t that tall either, probably standing a little taller than her.  
“Hi there,” his accent sounded almost American. “I’m Ryan,” he stuck his hand out.  
“Hi,” Euphemia stood up and met his hand. “I’m Euphemia, nice to meet you.”  
“You too,” he half smiled, maybe he was just a little shy. He was definitely younger than her she could tell.  
“Wonderful, now that you are both here,” Amanda began to say, “You both can take a seat, over on that couch.”  
Euphemia and Ryan moved over to the large couch where there was a coffee table in front of it. Amanda placed the box on the opposite side of it, closest to her. She began to remove folders and binders from it, as well as hand each of them one of the envelopes Euphemia spotted just moments before. She didn’t even look inside that particular envelope, she was already mesmerized by the highly stuffed binder that both her and her fellow intern had been just given. The folders and binders all had the Ken Place logo on it, and everything else inside of these had official prints and formalities one would expect from a prestigious stationery set, one that would make all of your classmates jealous, or perhaps mock you for being so formal.  
“Right then,” Amanda began again. “The manila envelope includes the confidentiality agreement as briefly discussed over the phone to each of you upon accepting this position. You will need to read and sign these by tomorrow. If you don’t show up tomorrow, we will take it that you have forfeited your internship. There will not be a replacement and we will need to track you down to retrieve all other necessary files we are passing onto you both today, including the folders and binders I have just given,” Amanda took out a copy of the binder she had for herself. “Very self-explanatory. Please see the table of contents at the beginning as a guide to any and all things that will help you through the duration of this spring and upcoming summer. The remaining weeks where you will be on a part time basis will serve as an introduction to what it is like working for the Royal House of Windsor. Specifically at Kensington Palace, where you will see we have detailed a map of the entire estate. You will report to the main security gate every time you come here for work, and will typically report here to Apartment 1A unless security detail tells you to report to one of our other office locations on the palace grounds. You will have security badge IDs made before leaving today, so should anyone ever stop you around here you have proof of your presence.   
“Speaking of that, not that it will be a problem as we plan to keep you both very busy,” Amanda’s mouth did a sort of uptick at that mention. “The map will be very helpful to understand the palace grounds. There is also an additional map that explains the majority of ins and outs of 1A. Mostly the different quarters, bathrooms, drawing rooms, kitchen, and other things necessary to the staff. It also will detail to you Their Royal Highnesses’ offices and bedroom quarters. Unless advised to, we ask that you do not visit these rooms out of personal respect. His Royal Highness, Prince Louis of Cambridge, still lives here and while sometimes does not come home directly from school has been known to lurk about when no one least expects it.”  
Louis. Euphemia had completely forgotten about him in the heat of the moment, even his parents and siblings were at the back of her brain. Today had mostly been focusing on remaining calm and not having a belly ache and getting sick before coming here after school. She had gotten through that bit fair enough, but she could feel the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of the prince. How would that be, what would it be like really, if they bumped into each other when she was on an errand around here, and maybe he casually was just out of the shower, shirtless and only the cleanest white towel wrapped around his waist. His body still wet, his dark hair laying across his forehead, everything about him exuding a hotness Euphemia felt on her insides and outsides. But she couldn’t let herself daydream like this, she had a job to do, a big job. The maps of this binder were hardly the bulk of this itinerary. She quickly looked to her side to get a view of Ryan, maybe catch the vibe he was feeling. Was he feeling nervous? A bit of pressure now?  
“And the Prince and Princess of Wales tend to be in and out every week day,” Amanda continued on. “They have many different events and places to visit, and most times you will find them in their unofficial office spaces either here in 1A or across the way in their official office spaces at Apartments 8 and 9. But do not be alarmed if you bump into them, they have been known to pop in to their house to pick something up or if they are craving something they are without. Which brings me to another point, you can find more about this in your binders, but I will just brief you both the major points right now, so please focus.  
“When you meet their Royal Highnesses, you are to gently bow followed by saying Your Royal Highness. After that had been done once, you are free to call the Prince ‘Sir’ and the Princess ‘Ma’am’. If given permission by them, you may refer to them by their birth names, but only if granted this perk. On that note, when you do see them there after even if it is weeks later, as the staff, we feel it is still preferred if you would address them by Sir or Ma’am at least before you begin calling them William or Catherine.”  
“Does she not prefer Kate?” Ryan asked.  
“She does allow some to call her that,” Amanda smiled. “Some, though.”  
Euphemia had the slightest feeling that the Princess of Wales probably would love it if more people called her Kate during her everyday life. Of course she had become very used to royal customs after all these years, but there had to be a part of her that still had the old Kate in there somewhere, right?  
“Now,” Amanda stood up straight, “there are a lot of things to discuss, but also just as many things for you both to read and review in your binders and folders. I’ll leave you two to it later, or for when you leave for the day. Today is just meant to be a brief orientation where you will get to meet some of the staff, we’ll give you a tour, and if there are any initial questions you have, we will make sure to answer them before you leave. Oh, also, not that it was noted to me that either of you drove, but you will be granted permission to use the garage across from Nottingham Cottage, should you wish to. But I take it neither of you drive.”  
Euphemia and Ryan sheepishly looked at each other and grinned. Looked like they were both going to be public transporters.  
“Well, even if you wish to use a bike come summer, that is acceptable, and we can make arrangements to also leave that in the garage. But keep in mind, as you’ll see on the map later, it isn’t right next to Apartment 1A. The garage is closer to 8 and 9, but as said earlier you will more than likely report here first. That way whoever you are training or working with, whether it is me or another staff member, can easily retrieve you and bring you to whatever the day may hold. Now, shall we have a look around?”  
Amanda said they could leave their binders and such on the table for now, as they would make sure to come back after the tour and day to collect these things. As they started their stroll around the palace, Euphemia got a better sense of the layout. A bit complex, probably because it was all so huge, but still breathtaking. There was plenty of staff coming in and out of different doors, whether they were cleaning or handling something else she would more than likely be learning about this summer. No one really paid them any attention, possibly because they all knew these were the supposed interns. The first interns, possibly, ever at Ken Place. Euphemia and Ryan were the guinea pigs on this new venture to continue modernizing the House of Windsor.   
Ryan asked Amanda how long she had worked here, Euphemia wishing she had thought to ask that. Apparently Amanda was an assistant undersecretary for Queen Elizabeth II’s court for about five years before her passing, and had then been moved to Ken Place where she took up a more senior role. Her schedule allowed her to have some of the most flexibility and henceforth why she would be their de facto leader and guide during this whole mentorship. She explained there would be many others they would learn from, especially here in the spring where the two of them might just spend an afternoon sitting behind the shoulder of someone and learning the way. Or walking like they were someone’s shadow and seeing what their daily tasks entailed. Amanda kindly assured both of them that they were all very pleased with both their applications and are excited to see what the two of them will be able to do and what they will learn during their short time here. Now Euphemia was interested in what Ryan’s application was like. Was he a royal fan? Was he some stuffy upperclass toff who got this role through his mum or dad? Or did he actually attain real skill, a people’s person or a fantastic writer? Are those the kind of factors that sold his application? Euphemia still didn’t know much about him, practically anything. He seemed nice enough, she still couldn’t totally land is accent. There was a hint of British in there no doubt, but also very American. Was he Australian by descent perhaps? Or Scottish? Hmmm, maybe Scottish, some parts of Scotland, Euphemia had learned, tended to almost sound like their brogue was American. Either that or there was no denying they were a Scottish man.  
As they rounded a corner and Amanda was explaining something to the two of them with her back to them, that’s when Euphemia caught it out of the corner of her eye. They were near the main foyer that she entered through earlier. The sunlight flickered onto the wood floor as she heard the door slightly open and the butler or guard say “Your Royal Highness” and then the clobbering of feet on that same wood floor, a young boy ripping off his tie and school jacket, probably super excited to be home or at least moments away from ripping off this monkey suit. His beautiful brown hair perfectly tossled, his chin so chiseled, his mouth slightly open taking in his surroundings while at the same time not recognizing a thing.  
It was Prince Louis. He clearly didn’t hear Amanda though, as his attention was not drawn to her. But her attention was definitely caught as all of a sudden, Euphemia heard her say, “Ryan?” Euphemia turned in a heartbeat to see Ryan, who had been looking down in the same direction, wide-eyed at the prince who had just returned from a day at school. His eyes so wide, only having eyes for the newcomer into the palace.  
Maybe there was something her and her fellow intern had in common…

Louis

He didn’t even have a second thought as he went straight to the kitchen and grabbed himself a snack, the usual route he went when he got home from school. The weather was really nice today, a perfect amount of warmth for spring that was eager to become summer. But still cool enough to be outside and not find it unbearable. Which meant he better pack himself a light and easy snack, and a sweater, along with the usual equipment and some shades.  
Louis was going for a ride.   
He tossed the apple up into the air as he pranced up the stairs to his room where he picked off a navy cable-knit sweater from his closet, and switched out of his school slacks for a pair of more comfortable trousers. He then dashed down the hall and back down the stairs, around many bends, nearly bumping into several staff members, just to get to his studio where he kept his equipment. He figured he’d take just his trusty Leica camera he had last used a few weekends before when visiting Charlotte at school. He had begun to develop that film slowly. He popped some new rolls into his pouch that could fit that as well as the tiny camera. It wasn’t that big, just like a digital camera most normal people had on their person when they went away on a family holiday. However the price comparison was quite extreme. This camera had been a gift Louis received a few years ago for his birthday, after constant begging for this particular camera. His family was already well aware of his interest in photography, and didn’t hesitate to give him a digital camera when he was much younger, and then grow his collection from there. But he wanted to dig deeper, and go further, push his limits and force himself to learn more about photography and looking through different lenses. He’d had private sessions in the past but as he got older he did attend some one-off workshops in London. It was always hard, depending on who else was in the class, but most others did not bother him or stare in awe. He was treated just like everyone else: there to learn.  
He double checked his phone, re-read his mother’s message, reminding him to make sure he was home later on so that he can meet the two interns that were having orientation today and this week. Louis really did not know the premise behind all this, but it wasn’t bothering him. It was just two more busy bodies running around the apartment. He had no idea what these two were studying at university, if they were even university students that is, Louis was very much kept out of the loop. Regardless, it wouldn’t bother him, so long as they didn’t stalk him. He wasn’t necessarily the one that needed the intern. Since Louis was underage, its not like he had to take on any official engagements alone, most all of them were accompanied or co-run with his parents or one of his other relatives. And he had still yet to do anything that really stuck out to him as personable or in line of what he wanted to do.  
As he made his way to the front door again, all the butlers bowing their heads as he went by uttering brief, “Sirs” and Louis saying “I’ll be back later,” as he put the aviators on his face and headed out to the garage to retrieve his motorbike.  
His parents weren’t against him having one, but it still did shock the whole family at large that he enjoyed riding one. It was almost like he was begging to be spotted while out and about. But Louis always felt, because he was going by so fast or then parking himself in inconspicuous places at specific times, he could really get away with it. Louis really liked to test the waters at times, or truly test the limits of those around him. This sort of energy burning inside of him that enjoyed liberation and a sort of rebellion. Only sort of because there were many things he was proud of in his life that lent to his royal heritage. Its just, times were changing and he felt like his voice for the modern age was something he’d hoped would be heard in years to come.  
He fastened the pouch around his waist, put on his helmet, and revved up his bike, making an obnoxious sound that hopefully did not disturb his grandfather’s private secretary’s wife if she was inside Nottingham Cottage at that moment, hopefully she was out and about with some friends or at her own job. He slowly crept down the paths of Ken Place up to the security gate where he saluted the guards as they brought one of the small gates up to let him out the side. Once he was out of clear shot, he hit the accelerator so fast and hard that he knew the sound could ricochet its way back to where he had been only mere seconds before.  
Hyde Park was a tourist trap just waiting to happen today, considering how fair the weather was, so that was an immediate cross off Louis’ list of where he could hang for a couple hours. Holland Park sounded nice, but perhaps too small. Even if he figured he would not be bothered there by anyone, wouldn’t want to run the risk. Brompton Cemetery? Was that too morbid? He could definitely get some great shots over there. And then he wouldn’t be too far from the River Thames, one of his most favorite spots in all of the city. Brooding over the water, like he was trying to solve the world’s crisis. Meanwhile, his first world problems were never going to be a match for someone else’s struggles. But he liked to look out from that view and think about everything and anything.   
Eventually he decided just on the scenic view rather than paying his respects to the dearly departed. It was a fair play, plus bringing along his noise-cancelling headphones as he stood by the edge and took in his surroundings, with no one and nothing in his way. Of course from about twenty-five meters away, he spotted security detail. He knew there were only a few rare occasions that he wouldn’t get followed by someone. It was fine, he’d grown used to it. It wasn’t for fear that he would do something bad, but rather something bad could happen to him. He could get hurt, or even just disappear. While he may not be the next-in-line to the throne, his position in the family still mattered a whole lot. He was brought up to believe that, that no matter what number he was assigned, he still had a role to play. But what was that role? To serve and respect, yes, but what beyond that? What could he bring to the table that would make him stand out rather than strike out? He’d brought it up time and time again his passion for the arts, specifically photography, but his mother was already a patron of so many of these positions. He knew he would eventually follow in similar suit to his elder relatives and joining the army, or the navy, or like his father followed their brother and join the Royal Air Force. One of the three he would complete at some point, he’d always been raised that that was the path to go. Then perhaps after that he could pursue more with his photography and art.  
But he was constantly wondering whether Charlotte would do the same. She always seemed to get her way. She had a wit about her, her smarts were superior to Louis and George. Well, not that that it was hard to outsmart George if you asked either of his siblings. There was nothing wrong with him, but Louis and Charlotte knew well enough that George was prematurely being molded for his future destiny, and the other two taking a backseat would still need to perform more than an understudy when they were called upon to do so. But what if Charlotte did not go through with a career in the military of sorts? She was in good enough shape to, but Louis knew if Charlotte didn’t want to do it, she would get her way and avoid it. She had talked about it less and less this past year, whereas in the past she always brought up how she would go into the navy once she finished her degree at Edinburgh. She said she wanted to see more of the world, maybe like their great grandfather Philip and be stationed somewhere else for a period of time, away from Britain. Louis was excited by the prospect of travel, but more like riding a vespa through Southern Italy as he carried his equipment and took photos of strangers walking along cobbled alley ways or sunning themselves in the sand.  
So yes, Louis was different from the rest of the family, but not different in a sense that he acted out…much. Of course he’d come home occasionally after having had a few too much to drink. But he never did anything bad while out, usually at the nightclubs he wasn’t the one dancing that often. He sat in the corner at a table and took in private conversations. Some friends hanging on every word he said, even if they were older than he was. Louis always giving some side-eye to Mac if he was there. The best part was that whenever Louis wanted to leave, he could. And most followed suit, or really felt they had no choice but to. This reminded him of what he used to hear about his great aunt Margot, his great grandmother’s sister. She too enjoyed a vibrant nightlife, going to clubs and bars with cool music and interesting people. Another person born into this family who was seen as important but ultimately had the sole duty to serve. Things didn’t turn out so great for her in the end, even if her life was colorful and lived out till the very young end of it. But isn’t that the point of life? To live every day like it is your last? To enjoy yourself? Was Louis enjoying himself here? Knowing that sometimes he would win and most other times he would loose? What could he do to change that? Could he in fact change that, without having to abandon the duty at all?  
“Sir,” he caught the security detail mouth a few steps away. Louis slowly with dramatic irritation removed the headphones from their place. He wrapped them around his neck and slowly cocked his head to the direction of this guard. “Its time to go, your parents wanted you home for a meeting—”  
“Yes, yes Martin, I remember all about it,” he put away his camera in his pouch, only having gotten a few shots in for the day. Perhaps that was better, he could save this film for something else. “Don’t tail me, please.” Louis said as he sauntered over to where his bike was, the guard bowing his head as Louis walked past. Even in broad daylight sometimes this staff would pull stunts like this. Louis found it annoying, but he liked having the little power he could abuse.   
The sun was slowly beginning its descent for the night, it would still be another hour though Louis presumed. But he did need to get home, there would be a meal and his parents would want to make sure he was home to meet these supposed interns. Perhaps he could get lost in the garage, claim he was fixing his bike? No, that would be more strikes against why he necessarily didn’t need one. Plus with the detail following his every move, they would immediately alert security that their royal prince had arrived onto Ken Place’s grounds. No, there was no backing out of this. Just better grin and bear it.  
After dropping off his bike and strolling along the paths, whistling at the top of his lungs, announcing his presence to all, he made it into 1A in one piece. He knew exactly where the family meeting would be, in the main sitting room, the one right off from the front door. He could see it now, his parents standing at attention, the interns a few meters away along with one of the private secretaries, most likely that Amanda. There were so many different ones Louis tried to keep track of them all. Names he could definitely remember, it was something he had picked up with his photography habit. Taking photos of your subject, remembering something specific, perhaps eye color or a birth mark somewhere. But a name always stuck with him, he didn’t know why. Perhaps growing up knowing your names meant so much is where it derived from, who knows. He may not know where Amanda was in the pecking order of things, but he remembered her name, should she be the one running the show.  
And indeed she was, she was seated across from the two interns, a girl and a boy, who both seemed of age with Louis. Not that he wasn’t far off from university, but he was imagining those who were going into their final term, or starting or completing a masters degree. What Louis wasn’t anticipating were two kids who very well could have taken the Underground or a bus right after their day at school let out, coming right here rather than a different job or sport.  
“Your Royal Highness,” Amanda stood up and bowed her head. The two interns quickly shot up from their seats and followed in suit, mumblings of “royal” and “highness” were heard as they dutifully bowed their heads very low into their chests.  
“Hello,” Louis sounded the word out. “Thank you for that, no need for it.”  
“Just trying to get them up to speed, sir,” Amanda assured.  
“Appreciate that,” he said, moseying across the room and plopping himself on the arm of a sofa chair. “So, are we waiting for my mum and dad or what?” That must have been weird, referring to them that way, in front of these two kids who viewed them as a prince and princess, a future king and queen consort.  
“Unfortunately, sir, I am not so sure they will be making it in time—”  
“Figures,” Louis bowed his head slightly. “They are busy most the time, I guess you two will be lucky if you get to interact with them at all.”  
“They could always interact with you, Louis,” Amanda offered.  
“Why? Its not like I’m their job, or project.”  
“Well, who better to introduce them to Kensington Palace than one of its most official residents?” she tried further. “They are around your age, sir. Please, allow me to introduce, Euphemia and Ryan,” she motioned her hand. “They will be working with us this spring through to the summer.”  
“Hello, again,” Louis played into it.  
“Hi,” they both meekly mumbled.   
“May I ask,” Louis boldly pronounced, “since I have you both here and my parents aren’t around to stop me…what interested you about an opportunity like this? It’s not like either of you are a plant for some secret agency, right?”  
The expressions across these two teenagers’ faces were priceless. Louis knew neither of them were up to something mischievous as that, otherwise they would have never been hired. But to see the looks they showed now, it was as if they were in high court and put on the spot. Witnesses to a crime they were trying to bury six feet underground.  
“Well,” Ryan began, Louis instantly caught something in the way he said this word. Was that an accent in there? “I really don’t know entirely much about this country, but have always found the monarchy to be interesting. Plus, I wish to one day work in broadcasting or even public relations, one of the other. This seemed like a great opportunity for me to not only learn but also work on my planning, speaking, and writing skills”  
An American. And a aspiring journalist. Louis instantly saw a mole through this. But also, this boy seemed very weak, very soft. Like he wouldn’t be put up to anything bad or devious, because he would immediately announce his guilt or be too afraid to even go forward with a daring task. So maybe he wasn’t a plant from some secret society from across the pond, even if everything he just said was immediate red flags. Especially that comment about being interested in the royal family, how much more American could he be?  
“Alright, well said” Louis tried to not roll his eyes at his own comment. He turned his head to the girl, “And you?”  
“Well, I,” soft spoken, and without a doubt British. Thank goodness. “I thought the opportunity seemed like a great one.”  
“Point taken, but why specifically this position? You could do something else, volunteer at a hospital for example.”  
“Yes, but I, I don’t really know exactly what I want to do yet. Whether that is major in English or biology, or something completely else, perhaps study law when I go to university in over a year’s time. I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do, who I want to be, where I belong.”  
“Aren’t we all,” Louis coolly said. “Well, I guess I have similar struggles. Part of being a teenager, right?”  
This comment made the other two teenagers blush.  
“Well, they will both be reporting after school for the time being, and then once their terms are over they will be reporting here like a full-time employee.”  
“They aren’t being put up on palace grounds, are they?”  
“No, sir,” Amanda confirmed. “but we hope they will be spending a lot of time with us, and learning a lot.”  
“Well,” Louis stood up from his perch, “there is certainly a lot to do, if you can’t tell by my parents’ absence,” he put the interns at ease again. “I suppose I will see you both around then?”  
“Yes,” they both said simultaneously, bowing their heads.  
Louis put a smolder on and shook his head, “No need, thank you though, goodnight all, I have some film to develop,” he stated as he slinked out of the room, catching Amanda bow her head ever so slightly and quickly.   
Two interns, at Ken Place, who were teenagers practically his age. This was surely going to be one interesting summer. And Louis had the sort of feeling that this was going to be the least of their worries.

Ryan

Ryan pressed his face up against the window of the car, not saying a word. He was still in awe of the day he had had. Well, the afternoon he had had. School was school, but the first day of this internship was something else. After meeting his co-intern, being given a tour of the majority of the palace, having a session with Amanda their supervisor on things to know…and then the meeting with the prince.   
Prince Louis.  
That’s why Ryan couldn’t bring himself to begin reading the binder across his lap, learning some courtesies and protocol issues. Or studying the map of the palace grounds, or Apartment 1A’s as he’d be spending most his time there. He was even being escorted home in a private car since it was late. After Prince Louis had made his guest appearance, there were a few things that Amanda wanted to still go over with him and Euphemia before they departed for the night, so that’s why the palace thought it would be nice if they each got a car ride home, a nice little treat. Just one of the many perks they would get for getting to spend a significant amount of time this coming summer at Kensington Palace, or Ken Place as it was called.  
And Prince Louis was one of them.  
Ryan knew that there was not a shot in hell he ever could have with the British Prince. But the fact he got to see him on the regular, be in his presence, listen to him speak or just even see him exist…this was all going to make it very hard for Ryan to remain focused when he was at work. And he knew Euphemia was struggling too, he just knew it. Out of the corner of his eye afterwards when Louis left them to their work and Amanda was blabbering on about events happening this summer to attend, he almost sensed that Euphemia was already daydreaming.   
And he could not blame her, because he was too.  
He hadn’t paid attention to how long the car ride really took, whether there was any traffic or not, because before he knew it Ryan was home. Winfield House, the American ambassador’s London residence for nearly eighty years, and for the first time in forever, he was proud to be living somewhere like this. After having spent the afternoon and early part of the evening at Ken Place, he felt like he was stepping into a different sort of royalty with this townhouse. However, the monarchs of the mansion, he wasn’t so please with about fifty percent of the time. And he was only slightly curious if they were to ask him how his day went. Slightly because they did know where he was going to be after school let out. He had kept reminding them that weekend about it, about why he wouldn’t be coming straight home after school like usual. They probably were irritated with him about it, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to make sure they heard him say it loud and clear, over and over again, that way he wouldn’t be in trouble after the first day. Thankfully it seemed neither his mother or father texted him during his time at the internship, so that was a good sign. It actually did feel weird, not looking at his phone. But if he were to do anything at all during this internship, it was to keep his cell phone out of sight. Last thing he wanted was for any of the staff, or even the royal family themselves, to think he was filming behind the scenes footage. And now Prince Louis was already onto him…  
It wasn’t terribly late at night, but Ryan rarely went out in general. So to find his parents already seated at the table, waiting for him, was a bit of a surprise. None of his siblings were in sight. They must have read this look of confusion across his face and his mother, charmingly, said, “We’ve already made sure your brother and sisters have eaten.”  
“Come sit down, son,” his father called over to him.  
Ryan said nothing and just followed their courting and sat down at the empty seat with a place setting already there. They appeared to be having a roast chicken with vegetables for the night. How original. Ryan instantly thought of birthdays and celebrations, like Ryan celebrating the first day of his job, and a job such as this. Wouldn’t it have been nice if his parents had asked the staff to prepare a special meal for Ryan? Something he would have enjoyed having? Perhaps a bowl of chili, as strange as that may sound, or even just take out of some curry? No, his parents were always prepared to put on a show. And Ryan had learned that bit from them very well, although, his putting on a show was for other reasons. It was to survive.  
“So, how was it?” Candace stared.  
“It?”  
“The internship, son,” George clarified.  
“I figured that,” Ryan said, beginning to serve himself some food. “I just didn’t think ‘it’ is the best way of putting my day.”  
“Oh dear, don’t get in such a rut about my speech,” Candace defended herself.  
“Fine, it was fine. Very fine,” Ryan quickly realized he didn’t want to lose his stand at the podium. For the first time in forever, he actually had something interesting to share with his parents. And perhaps they might actually want to listen to him, whether they agreed with it or not was another matter entirely. “A lot to learn, actually, I was sent home with several folders and binders. So I’ll need to review some of it before going to bed tonight.”  
“Just don’t let it interfere with your actual studies, son,” George threw in.  
“And then there was the tour, so we got to see a fair amount of the apartment, but that was only it for today. We may visit the other sections of the palace grounds later on, but for today it was just where we will report to.”  
“We?” his mother asked.  
“Well the other intern and I, of course,” Ryan stated in disbelief. Had his family forgotten that bit of information? Did they think he was the only intern for Ken Place? Was that why they were seeming to be interested? No matter, he blazed on, “Euphemia, she’s a little older than me, still has one more year until university.”  
“Where is she from?”  
“London, I imagine,” Ryan tried not to get angry at the interruptions. “Would be quite difficult if she came from somewhere else just for today and the following afternoons. I don’t know much else about her, we didn’t really have alone time actually. I’m sure in the coming weeks we will have to get to know each other a little bit better, unless they keep our tasks separate.”  
“Did you meet anyone else? Anyone else you’ll be working with?”  
“In passing, yes,” Ryan cut some more into his chicken. “But that was about it…oh, and the prince.”  
“The Prince of Wales?” Candace exclaimed, he thought his mother was about to throw her glass of wine.  
“No, no,” Ryan shook his head. “Prince Louis of Cambridge, his son. Actually we didn’t get to meet the Prince and Princess of Wales, we were supposed to be introduced but they were rather busy. So it was just Prince Louis.”  
“Well that was probably a letdown,” George mumbled. “Not only second best but third string of players on the team.”  
“Much like yourselves,” Ryan looked up from your plate. “Although, I’m sure for even you two, third would be preferable at this stage. Where do you even stand in the pecking order of our home government, hmm?”  
“Watch it, boy,” his father’s energy went from jesting to jerking.  
“And what does that mean, Ryan?” Candace’s nasty energy was finally released.  
“I’m sorry, if that offends you. But I’m just trying to tell you two about the afternoon I had. The first afternoon I have had a in a long while that I have actually enjoyed. Yes, it may have been boring to some on the outside, but the fact I am embarking on this position and being welcomed in to the fold, it actually feels quite nice. Its something I rarely received at school, both here and abroad back home. I’ve never really fit in anywhere, no matter how many times I have to tell you I guess I have to keep repeating myself. And perhaps, in this ‘backwards-system’, as some would presume it to be and maybe it is a little, I can find some order and work on myself a little bit better than I have in the past. So can for one moment in my life, can you please be a little excited for me? Can you show a little bit of compassion, or kindness even? I’m not asking you to congratulate me, I am not asking you to give me gifts and awards, I am asking you to just trust me for once. To not judge me like a book’s cover. To actually give me a chance like never before, like no one has ever given to me except for this job,” Ryan was spitting angry now, but holding his temper down. He had mastered this art from his mother, how you could calmly, coolly, and collectively take someone down all the while not letting them see you as weak or whiny. Even though he knew his parents saw him this way.  
Silence. Only stares upon their son’s face. Not knowing what to say back. He knew why, they were just as much cowards as he was. The moment someone finally got them to shut up, they were shut down. It was the reason they were even here in England. Their fellow Americans had had enough of their nagging behavior, it was time to get rid of them in such a public manner it would be seen as considerate but truly demoralizing towards everything they had worked for.  
Ryan really hadn’t stood up to his parents so much like this before. It felt good to, but also wrong. But wrong because he felt like he didn’t need to defend himself so much, defend everything he did or thought, or was. Not that that conversation had been broached. Thank goodness they hadn’t made a comment about him trying not to date the fellow intern. That of anything else was the snide remark he could count on from Candace or George, or both.  
“Sorry, I think I’m just going to take my meal to my room for the night. I do have a lot I need to study, both for school and work now,” his parents did not budge from their seats. He grabbed his plate of food and utensils and went up to his room, slinging his bag of now many books and papers across his back. He perhaps was starting to understand the phrase “weight of the world” on your shoulders.  
Ryan flipped open the binder on his desk, made some room to the side for his plate and drink, and then flicked on the lights. The bright white light in an otherwise dull colored room really gave the impression of a laboratory rather than a room to lounge and retreat in. But he wasn’t about to take his meal outside, even if it was spring. The page he had managed to flip open to was a family tree, only dating back to the last queen and her grandparents. Ryan was very aware of other royal history before that, but he was sure his job would not require him to spit out facts like that. He followed down the line of Elizabeth to Charles, to William, and then his eyes fell on Louis rather than George or Charlotte. He opened his laptop in that moment and did an image search on the young prince. Photos of him at official events, at polo matches, out and about on the town making him seem to be a true social butterfly. Always dressed impeccable, a smolder that could kill you with even just a passing glance at it. There was no question why so many girls, and perhaps boys like Ryan in secret, fantasized about this young royal. Ryan noticed in some of these photos the prince had a camera slung around his body, articles pointing him towards having an interest in the arts, more articles and photos of him stepping out of nightclubs and concerts with friends. He seemed like a really great guy, someone fun to hang out with if given the chance.  
But Ryan needed to remind himself, Louis was a royal, and Ryan only the lowly intern to that other boy’s family. What on earth could they possibly get along about? Ryan was no high-lord’s son, no high-ranking naval officer’s child. He was just Ryan, and that was always fine by him because he never really mattered much to others. Falling into the repetitive stage of the shadow games, his off-white skin and thick dark hair, standing back and letting others take the spotlight.  
For once, Ryan wasn’t so sure that was what he wanted to do anymore. He wanted something more

Archie

The boy was tossing and turning in his sleep. After having gone to the food bank after school the last couple days to get his mind off of the upcoming final exams, he was still unable to focus on anything. Especially after reading that magazine from earlier in the week. That’s what he really couldn’t stop thinking of. And worst of all, he had no one to talk to about it. Maybe in the past, Nana Deedee might have possibly said a thing or two, helped him understand his other family a little more, the little she could help him with or even dare say. He knew his mother would only question him why he was having these questions. And his father was basically as good as gone while still being alive at the same time. He had no one to turn to when it came to the half royal side he belonged to.  
He sat up from bed and picked up his laptop from the ground and turned it back on. He’d started bookmarking a bunch of different articles. Ones about his grandfather, his aunt and uncle, photos of his cousins out and about as young adults in London and the two of them that had already gone on to college. He was trying to get as much information as possible as he could, try to feel their essence from all the way here in Malibu. It obviously wasn’t enough, but it was something. It was at least a start of how he could understand those that he felt like he had never met. But they must have all met him, at some point in his past, even if he couldn’t remember those periods in time. Distant blurs and just mysterious sounds.  
And then, there was the other big mystery, his late grandmother. No, his other one, the former Princess of Wales. That was what Archie had begun to throw himself further into research of. His father and mother both idolized this grandparent of his—why had they not at least brought him up to know her better? To learn about and appreciate all the good she brought into the world? What other secrets had they been hiding from Archie about his grandmother, or was it just all the same? The less he knew the better? The more used to being left out of the loop the more likely he wasn’t to stand up and say something? Where was Archie’s voice in all this? Where was Archie in any of this? Where did he fit in? Did he fit in even?  
He was doing research on the Spencer family, and by god how rich that history was. Perhaps even longer than the Windsors. Well, the Windsors had had many names over the years of different kings and queens. But the Spencers went far back, and full of many different characters, cousins or not. They remained relevant in the aristocratic world even to this date. Archie’s great uncle was still hanging in, his grandmother’s younger brother. The Lord Spencer, perhaps one of the few people left out there who knew Diana best. Or did he really know her at all? That was something Archie was toying with presently. Was that why his parents chose to not say anything about Princess Diana? Was it they had come to a conclusion that they would never be able to understand her, whether in life or death? What made them choose to shut her out of memory, just like Archie being shut out of so many others memories? IT seems that much like his grandmother, all Archie wanted was to be loved, and to love others. To care and be cared for. To not feel like he was a non-starter or totally irrelevant. He wasn’t asking for the spotlight, but he was asking for others to listen ot him, to give him a chance. It was all he was asking for, if he could have anything in the world. He didn’t receive that attention at home or at school, and it didn’t seem like things were changing in that department anytime soon.  
Archie clicked around and switched to a different tab, the one for LAX airport. About an hour before he tried going to bed the first time, he thought about booking a flight out to London. A one-way ticket, to find out some truth about himself and his family. To perhaps even meet this family, especially if he was going all the way out there. But he would need to do it without anyone knowing, and yet he still had finals coming up, how was he going to even attempt this? It sounded like a failure to launch.  
But sometimes, mission impossible is just what you need to do to find out what can be possible…

Louis

“Do you mind passing the dressing?”  
“Sure thing,” Louis handed the saucer over to his father, the Prince of Wales.  
“Everything alright at school today, darling?” Kate asked.  
“I suppose so,” Louis played with his food on the plate. They were having an English garden salad. Just something light yet refreshing in the middle of the week, a nice pick-me-up meal. “Not too much happening right now that is exciting.”  
“They probably don’t want to hit you with too much stress, especially once final examination prep eventually gets underway.”  
“Most likely,” Louis drew out those words.  
“How are your friends then? We haven’t seen Mac around here in a few weeks,” his mother added.  
“Good, otherwise they aren’t telling me the truth,” Louis chuckled to himself. “I told Abbs we could go out this weekend, with some others who will be in town. Is that alright?”  
“We can’t control you as much as we’d like to,” William tried to make a light joke. “We haven’t stopped you in the past, what makes you think we will now? You know the rules though.”  
“I know, I know,” Louis shook his head.  
“Speaking of friends and people your age, what are your thoughts on the two interns here? Sorry we haven’t been able to meet them yet,” Kate looked down at her plate.  
“Your mother is right,” William said with a mouthful of eggs and tomatoes. “We are sorry we had to miss out back on Monday. But we definitely will need to meet them soon—what are their names again?”  
“Euphemia and Ryan,” Louis answered.  
“How do they seem? I don’t mean about getting on with the job, its still early, but do they seem comfortable?” Kate asked.  
“Coming from someone who has only lived in a palace their whole life, I don’t know if I can answer how two teenagers are totally feeling about spending their afternoons here,” Louis offered up. “But, if you mean as people? I suppose they seem alright. Haven’t really seen them since that first meeting, or more so paid attention to them. You know me, I do enjoy flying under the radar.”  
“That’s fine, sweetheart,” Kate dug some more into her dinner. “I just figured you would be able to read them better than most, they are around your age.”  
“So you don’t know much about them then?” William questioned.  
“I don’t have the means nor desire to stalk them online or through social media, if that’s what you are asking.  
His parents shook their head at this comment with chuckles. Of course he could have tried looking up Euphemia and Ryan through his Instagram, but he didn’t see the point in it. If the palace had already vetted them enough, why did Louis need to be a third party getting involved in the processing of new hires? “Why, are you nervous?”  
“Not nervous,” William started, “but it is totally…different. It does make sense, the idea of it—”  
“Plus it shows a more progressive look of what can be done within the working palace—”  
“And grandad put you two up to it,” Louis finished for his parents. “I figured he’d want to do something like this. Constantly throwing modernization into the firm. Not saying it is bad, we must remain relevant if he learned anything from Gan-Gan’s time on the throne. I always wonder what she would say.”  
“My grandfather would have liked the idea…in his younger years at least,” William stated. “But my grandmother…I think she would have been alright with it. Perhaps not loved it entirely, but she would have seen that it had some value.”  
“It does have value though,” Kate chimed in. “And if this all goes well, its something that can continue to happen. I do think it is a great thing for it to be like a summer program, or if the consideration to make it a year-long mentorship process, that is another thought that they were throwing around initially.”  
“Wow, that would definitely be something. Working here for a year,” Louis chewed on that idea and his meal. “How many kids imagine about having an opportunity like this, especially at such a young age. Its so rare, its almost newfound. How many other monarchies have established a program like this? Its different with government officials, or any sort of corporate setting. But how many people get to say they interned at Ken Place?”  
“Just two, for now,” Kate lightly touched on. “Speaking of work and plans, have you thought of what you are planning to do for the summer, Louis?”  
What was almost expected of Louis was him accompanying his parents and other relatives on royal outings and affairs. What the world at large imagined for someone of his status was that he would be spending the summer sunning in St. Tropez. But what Louis really wanted to do was be like the two interns dwelling in these halls now during the week. Of course, not interning at Ken Place though. But interning, for sure, in something he was interested in. London was one of the best cities in the world with so many different museums and galleries to visit. But Louis wanted to work at one. He knew that he might have a better chance at an opportunity like this once he was studying at university, but now that he saw two teenagers here at the palace having an internship-of-sorts, he thought why not him? Of course, he didn’t know how his parents would feel about it. They did support his passion for photography, but it was the idea of taking on a public job that he knew they wouldn’t be so keen on, especially while he was still technically a minor.   
“Not babysit granddad if that is what you had in mind,” Louis offered up and this made his parents laugh. “I mean—” he didn’t know whether he should say what was really on his mind. Maybe he should, just so that it was out there. “Can I speak hypothetically?”  
“Of course.” William confirmed.  
“Say I could do anything for the summer, well, that would be to actually work. But have an internship. At one of the museums in London, preferably an art museum, but I’ll take anything really. Even a small gallery that hosts contemporary art, probably what I would prefer most if I had the pick of the lot. But I know I can’t really do something like that, not now at least.”  
“Quite right,” William picked up more of his salad and shoved it into his mouth. Kate followed in suit.  
That was it? They weren’t going to encourage their son and tell him how they are sorry he couldn’t do that right now, but they were at least proud of him for thinking of doing something so bold and interesting? They weren’t going to at least emotionally support him? And by support, he means literally tell him to his face. Not pull “We meant it even if we didn’t say it” which was usually the course of action for this entire family. The old “We can’t go around congratulating each other on everything we think, say, or do”. And Louis understood that perfectly well…or at least he tried to. In this moment, he couldn’t tell if his parents were with him or against him, and that pretty much scared him.  
“Any word from your brother?” Kate asked  
Louis was still in a funk so he didn’t answer for a few seconds, half thinking that maybe his mother directed the question at his father. But that would be silly of him, when was the last time William actively reached out to Harry when their father wasn’t around, and vice versa? It was famously known that while the brothers did love each other from a far, that was the best way to keep a fractured relationship at least slightly together. Thankfully Louis did not have this with George. Of course they were apart in terms of geography, but the metaphorical and emotional side of their relationship had not hit a breaking point and ground zero that their father and uncle had when they were in their twenties and thirties, which still stung to this day.  
“No I haven’t,” Louis finally answered. “Been a little while but that’s alright, I know Charlotte said she hears from him on occasion.”  
“Sometimes I wonder if Charlotte is the only person your brother feels comfortable talking to,” William half-snickered.  
“Relax, darling,” Kate protested. “I know you are happy he is in the Royal Air Force like you were, but you have to give him space. Allow him to make it his thing and not just be a carbon clone.”  
“I suppose your right, but I always try and he doesn’t budge.”  
“Just give him time, sweetheart.”  
“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you Louis?”  
Louis looked at his parents with wide eyes, not knowing whether to be serious or make light of the moment. “Oh, father, how humble and noble of you to think I would be serving in the Royal Air Force someday.”  
His parents laughed at the comment. His father spoke up, “That’s right, you’ll be our Navy Captain. I can see it already.”  
Louis just smirked at the comment and figured the best answer was to continue eating his dinner. Now that comment his father made, that was being extremely presumptive. What made him think that that was what Louis wanted to do with his life? Of course, he understood that being a part of the services was something most members of the Royal Family did at some point, but Louis never imagined him rising to such high rankings. He figured he’d do his part for his country, and then come back and work for the firm but also get to maintain his passions and other ambitions. Now that was one way he wanted to avoid being a complete carbon clone.  
After dinner he left his parents to cleanup as he snuck off to his studio, the one place he definitely wanted to be right now. He had the film from the trip up to Charlotte that he had still yet to develop. So, right now seemed as good as ever to get to it. It would take his mind off things, especially everything that had just been discussed at dinner. The photos of Charlotte out on the pitch playing with her teammates, she seemed happy, determined, everything you could hope for when you think of someone you care about and wanting the best for them. She really did seem to enjoy being at school at Edinburgh, whether it was participating in the club sports that she did or even when it came to her studies. It seemed like she was always studying at the library with a friend or out for a pint with some classmates in the evening after a lecture. And George seemed to have had a good time in college, he got a girlfriend out of it, and was now doing his duty. Louis knew he didn’t hear from George much because George had told his two siblings before shipping off that he was trying to do his own thing. Not abandoning the crown, but trying to make sure that his mates would see him as just one of the other guys, and not feel like he needed special treatment or something. He wanted to blend in and just exist in the things he was passionate about. That was probably why Charlotte was enjoying school so much more now, especially after the words of advice from their big brother. Louis knew that George would make a great king some day, and he and Charlotte would be there to support him the whole way through.  
…whether they wanted to or not. That was their duty of being born the spares. They were meant to support the heir in all his endeavors, through their whole lives. Even if they did not take on such a high role, they needed to be there as physical and moral support. It was their duty above all other things once George ascended one day. It was all any other royal siblings had been diligent about in the past. Until their father’s brother had decided to take a different path down the road. That was why William and Kate made sure that their children grew up to love and respect each other no matter what, and understand where their priorities needed to be. And the bond between the three of them was strong, even if the other two did like to pick on the youngest of the brood. He knew it was all meant with love. So Louis wondered, if he was going to be there to always support his brother and sister, could they support him right now? Could they be the ones that speak to their parents and lighten them to the idea and truly the seriousness about his passion for photography? It really wasn’t that strange of a concept, royalty being interested by the arts. But he needed his brother and sister to really support him in this, not just as a thing he did on the side (minus the secret paparazzi work he did on the side) but as a passion he would like to bring to the foreground of his life. Could they support him in this?  
Would anyone support him?


	7. Archie/Marcus/Euphemia/Louis/Ryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this next chapter, we see Archie spend some time with his mother, and this makes him further reflect what he wants to do for the summer, even if it is a big leap of faith. Mac suffers from another late night episode and doesn't know how much longer he can keep things a secret from everyone. Euphemia gets a surprise guest at the cafe, who she begins to bond with. Louis enjoys a family-filled weekend but knows that Mac is hiding something from him, but decides to not bother him. Ryan is finally feeling happy about living in England, only for his mother to constantly rain on his parade.
> 
> This isn't too long of a chapter, because the next and last one is HUGE! Also, I'm getting better at formatting my text! Thank you!

Chapter 7  
Archie

“We are leaving soon,” Meghan called from the downstairs foyer.

“I’ll be down in just a bit,” Archie shouted from his room. He was extremely shocked that his mother was ready before him for once. It was really rare that she ever was, but if it was an opportunity for her to be out and about and have a few photos taken by the press, then maybe she would be a little more prepared than when handling something else. Archie had on board shorts and a long-sleeve shirt. The weather was nice in California but it wasn’t really summer yet, so he could get away with these last bits of spring fever fashion. And as always, Archie plucked a hat and pair of sunglasses from his dresser. It wasn’t just a uniform code his mother had always encouraged him to utilize when out and about whether on his own or with her, but Archie personally liked the idea of actually not being recognized. Because most of the time, he really wasn’t. It was in instances like these when his mother rung up the paparazzi ahead of time that they would spot them, and him wearing a cap and some shades really gave off that right kind of vibe that he was someone of “importance” but just couldn’t be bothered.

He skipped down the landing to find his mother staring down at her phone, a huge purse hanging from the crook of her elbow that matched her black tights and contrasted the ivory heels and blouse she also wore. And her pair of sunglasses were most likely in that bag of tricks she carried. “Do you want me to drive?” Archie offered.

Meghan immediately looked up from her phone, a dazed and confused look, “Really? Why?”

“Just offering, I don’t have to if you don’t want me to,” Archie said as he started to glide by his mother, he really did tower over her even though she was wearing heels.

“Here,” she forced the keys into his chest, stopping him in place. “You lock up then,” she included as she looked back down at her phone and then marched out of the house. Archie had learned long ago all the different codes to the house to lock-up. Something he had been used to since he could come home from school on his own.

Today they were in a Cadillac Escalade. This was the usual kind of car they would go out in, but on occasion Archie would find an Audi or a Tesla in the driveway for a few weeks at a time. His mother would take it for a spin or to go somewhere, but then it would magically disappear after its few week stint at their garage. Giving off the impression that they owned so many cars when really most of them were rentals. This Escalade was on lease, they’d always leased the kind of car like this, the sort of car that quite literally screams security vehicle. Plus the fact it was a black shade, which never helped in the California heat of any time of year.

Eventually they had made it to Rodeo Drive at one of their typical brunch spots, whenever his mother wanted to include him on one of these dates. Luckily it was just the two of them and not any of her friends, Archie didn’t enjoy those get-togethers. He quite literally would sit there and have virtually nothing to contribute. He would be better off staying home than being a third or fifth wheel. But no, today was just a mother and son outing. Of course his mother telling him where they should park, in the hopes that a photographer was waiting by that street. Archie didn’t disobey, he just let it all happen. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already done this a billion times before.

After they had both put in an order for waters and coffees, his mother said, “Your driving has improved from the last time.”

“Thanks,” Archie propped the menu up to conceal his face, whether it would reveal shame or laughing, he wasn’t so sure. Archie had been practicing his driving, a lot, considering he drove to school all the time now. His mother was one to talk, she rarely did go out as much as he did. Of course his going out was a necessity, but at least it was helping him build muscle memory of driving the crazy roads of Los Angeles county. They then put in their usual orders, his mother asking for a Florentine omelet with a garden salad on the side, and then Archie asked for the stuffed French toast that was topped with fruit.

“So, how was the food bank this week? Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

Archie had to bite his tongue at that comment. The way his mother had just phrased her apologies was like someone saying they couldn’t make it to a friend’s party because they had a migraine or simply just “something else” to attend to. And it wasn’t like Meghan came to the food bank every week, it probably had been a few months since she last popped over. Of course, Archie didn’t know this for a fact so he couldn’t throw that blame at her. But considering the staff that worked there rarely asked after his mother made him wonder if it wasn’t because they saw her on a regular basis but because they cared not to ask after her. They were all perfectly lovely and nice people, and probably wished her no ill-will. But maybe they were just wise to her tricks after so many years of her floating in and out of service to their service.

“It was good, thank you for asking,” Archie began.

“Do you think you’ll help out there a lot this summer?”

“Dunno, maybe,” a little bit of the inner British in Archie came out right then and there. “Why? Did you have something else in mind for me?”

“No, unless you’re asking for something,” Meghan retorted back.

“No trips planned?”

“Not if I’m trying to get this lifestyle and cookbook together,” she peaked down at her phone briefly. “I’m still struggling with some of the content.”

“Do you need help with any of that?”

“Not really, don’t want to bore you with it,” his mother unconsciously kept looking at her phone

“Well if I’m already going to have a boring summer of nothing, then might as well at least find things to fill it with.”

“Well you must have friends you can spend time with.”

The way his mother had just phrased that was as if she were speaking to a coworker or neighbor, not her own son. “You must have friends” felt like yet another big slap across Archie’s face and it was hardly noon yet. Of course he had friends, she should know that. Not that he brought them around much. Unless she’d always suspected he was lying when he said he was going to hang out with someone. More likely she didn’t pay attention. “Unlike me, most my friends are either working or going away to camps for the summer,” he didn’t even dare bring up those classmates that talked about summer vacation homes and trips. Archie wasn’t even going to be getting that this summer, he’d give anything to go to a third world nation and help out for a couple weeks.   
Anything to be away from the Malibu mansion life. But just like when it came to having jobs or going away for anything, his mother did not approve if he was doing it alone…or more or less, without her.

“Well, good thing you don’t have to worry about working yet.”

“Don’t you think it would be good for me though? Even a small part time gig or something? Teach me a bit about responsibility?”

“Why? Should I be concerned you are irresponsible?”

“That’s not the point,” Archie shook his head and sat back, adjusting his hat.

“Then what is? Why are you making this such a bigger deal than it needs to be?”

“I don’t want this to be a ‘bigger deal than it needs to be’, alright?” Archie through air quotes out at that comment. “I’m just thinking I should do something with myself, I’m sixteen after all.”

“Exactly the point, you’re only sixteen!” Meghan commented as if it was funny. “You’ve got a whole life ahead of you.”

“I suppose,” Archie sunk back into his seat even further as he pulled out his phone, mirroring his mother’s position. She got up from the table and pressed her iPhone to her ear and was on a call. With an agent? A friend? Who knew? Maybe she wasn’t actually on a call at all, as she clearly stepped far out of the way from their setting out towards the street, perhaps hoping the press would snatch another photo of her.

Archie opened the Safari browser on his phone and looked up airplane tickets again. After this conversation, he really had the urge to just go with his gut and take a trip of his own. It was too late to sign-up and go to any of the camps his friends would be attending, and even though volunteers were always needed on mission trips it wasn’t like he could just suddenly appear and everything to be vetted and flying with colors of approval. But there was one place he could visit, all he needed to do was order the ticket. Even if it was only a one-way. He’d probably have to fly into Chicago or New York first and then connect over, but maybe he could manage a short layover. And then before he knew it, he would be heading to London. Where he necessarily didn’t need to book a hotel or even a hostel, at least for now he didn’t need to. As bold as it would sound, perhaps all he needed to do was go right up to Buckingham Palace, prove who he is, and be allowed entry. Even if he was held there like a prisoner for a few hours or even a night, he would hope that his Grandfather would be alerted and come for him. Or someone else, perhaps his uncle and aunt.

He put his phone away. How ridiculous could he be? What would he be doing? Jeopardizing so much and putting himself at risk embarking on this journey. He just couldn’t. But then again, Archie was looking for the adventure of a lifetime, he was sixteen much to his mother should grin, he hadn’t heard from his father for months, and he wanted answers. No, he needed answers. He needed to find himself, find out answers about his past and his family’s past. He needed to find the truth.

Archie needed to find his own freedom.

Marcus

No matter how hard he tried to pry open his eyes, they were completely glazed over. He couldn’t even remember how much he had drank last night. And usually that would be something that could be laughed at with friends after a night on the town. But instead, Mac binge drank on his own. He told Louis he wasn’t feeling well enough to go out, that everyone else should go on without him, that he’d catch up another time. Instead, Mac chose to stay home and sulk, and drink, and then pass out. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time Mac had pulled this card. In fact, it was becoming more of the norm than the occasional scapegoat.

He flopped his arms down onto the comforter, thankfully no one was coming in here to draw his blinds. His parents were most likely already out for the day, whether enjoying themselves or working. It was Saturday after all. He didn’t even know what time it was.  
His answer quickly answered as all of a sudden he heard his mobile begin to vibrate from the side table next to him. Mac groaned, and rubbed his eyes so much you’d think he was digging for gold. Then his right arm aggressively slapped down on the table and picked up the phone, sliding on the touch screen to answer. He went to then switch it on to speaker but he was instantly caught off guard when he saw the name across the top.  
Louis Cambridge.

He gasped, hoping it wasn’t heard on the receiving end of the call. He gently pressed it up against his ear and said. “Hello?”

“Hey you, why so confused? Still not feeling well,” Louis shouted from his end, or at least that’s how it seemed to pound through Mac’s eardrums.

“Just waking up, actually, sorry.”

“Ah, mate, sorry that you still aren’t feeling well. You missed a good night out.”

“Did I? You sound particularly okay and not hungover.”

“Never better,” the prince shouted. “Sorry, have you on speaker, I’m just grabbing something from the cupboards to eat and then bringing it with me to my dungeon as mum and papa call it.”

“Hardly a dungeon when its still on the ground floor,” Mac laughed at that, and so did Louis.

“I know right? Well, have the urge to work on something, may upholster a chair today even.”

“Really? Maybe you were drinking something new last night then,” Mac teased.

“Maybe,” Louis said. “Wish you had been there Abbs. You sure you’re doing alright?”

Mac could hear the dear sentiment from his friend on the other line. Louis actually was concerned. Mac was thankful for that, but also embarrassed, considering he had lied to him. “No, I am doing alright actually. Probably could do with some fresh air that’s really it.”

“Well, take a stroll through the park or something and then come over here, keep me company alright?”

Mac was taken aback. Not that he expected Louis to act anything less than his best, but he figured after Mac skipping out on a Friday night adventure that Louis would forget all about him until Monday at school, maybe not even ask if he wanted a ride in the morning. And here he was, asking him to hang out for the day, what a true friend does. This really did Mac in, now he felt horrible for bailing on the night before. He needed to make it up to Louis.

“You know what, I will mate, just give me some time to shower and eat and such.”

“No rush there, I’ll be here all day. Don’t think my parents have anything particular planned today.”

“No tea at Grandpapa’s or something?”

“No, I do not believe so, I think he might actually be heading up to Scotland so that’s definitely not in the cards. I think tomorrow we are going over to the Middleton side of the family for Sunday roast, that’s about it.”

“Cool mate, just give me some time and I’ll be over later.”

“I’ll be setting myself up, you’ll know where to find me.”

“And if I don’t, I’m sure someone else there will.”

“Damn right my friend,” Louis ended the call.

Mac lay there in bed a little while longer before slowly getting onto his feet. He felt himself shake a bit at the sensation of hitting the floor. It wasn’t even like the floor was cold or something. But it definitely threw him off a bit. Again, he really could not remember how much alcohol he had consumed the night before. All he knew was that it was straight up stuff. Not mixed. There was definitely some whiskey in there, as per usual, but he might have had some rum, a bit of gin as well. He wasn’t entirely sure, and he felt like if he opened up his hidden stash, it would just make his stomach do flips at the sight of the damage he might have done if it was clearly visible.

He threw on a robe and headed downstairs for the kitchen. He figured the best thing to do was at least make himself two eggs with a bit of toast, and perhaps some coffee to both perk him up and cure the hangover. And water, lots and lots of water, maybe might even need to bring a takeaway bottle with him if he did indeed go on a walk to get to his friend’s home. Mac wished he was bold like Louis that he had a motorbike and could ride that instead. He wished a many great deal of things that he was like Louis, and bold was probably a common word used. If the prince did go out last night but was not hungover, then that means he took a back seat in the booth for the evening, perhaps was fooling around with his camera a bit rather than fooling around with girlfriends. Maybe if Mac was there the prince might have let a little more loose. But Mac really couldn’t trust himself going out last night, that’s why he stayed in. Too much had been on his mind and he just didn’t want to be out with others, even if it was a good thing for him.

Maybe Louis knew something was up, maybe that was why he was having him over for the day, saying that he could come over whenever and that Louis would be there. Perhaps the prince was on to the prime minister’s son after all, maybe not about him being gay but about other things. Maybe he was worried that his best friend was depressed? That sounded like something Louis would do. His parents were big advocates for mental health and getting the right sort of help. Not that he was expecting Louis to immediately hit him with the lecture hammer, but perhaps Louis would feel his friend out, let Mac speak his mind.

Maybe that was what Mac needed to do, in order to get a little bit out of this rut of his.

He gobbled down his food before he had even realized it, was just the thing he needed apparently. And then went and hopped into the shower, letting himself soak up the water and steam out the room for a good twenty minutes. Letting all those toxins out from the binging the night before, start to feel more like a human again after he’d filled his belly and cleaned off his body. Mac had virtually turned the bathroom into a steam room that he was shocked the alarms did not ring off at the sheer amount of fog seeping in and out of the glass door into the bathroom and then the hall. Thank god his parents weren’t home. This definitely would have caused some alarm and for them to ask if he was feeling alright.  
After the relaxing spa session of his own accord, he picked out a pair of trousers and a light sweater to wear, it seemed like a nice enough day out. But when did it ever get super hot in London? He would need a pair of sunglasses to block his view, he knew even if he was feeling better post-drinking, direct sunlight would still cause him to stumble and crumble at the sight of it. He left a note for his parents, in case they were in and out for the day, filled his canteen up, and then was on his way.

From 10 Downing Street to Kensington Palace, it really was a nice walk, whichever way you took it. Whether you went around through Mayfair to Hyde Park, or on the opposite fork in the road from Westminster through to Belgravia and Knightsbridge. Or if you really wante the full experience, why not cut through St. James Park and go past Buck House to get to Hyde Park and then Ken Place? Mac figured he’d take one of the longer routes, prolong his time spent with his best friend, allow him to sort out his thoughts before he actually went through with coming clean about some of the things that had been on his mind. Did he feel comfortable coming out to his best friend yet? If he wasn’t, could he even possibly admit that he was a borderline alcoholic? Telling someone you were gay was not as big a deal in their age group, even if that person is a Prince of England. But mentioning his drinking problem was another thing entirely. Could he really put that weight on someone he cared about? He’d already but enough mental weight on his conscious because of all this, so why not burden someone else? Perhaps that would lessen in, and they might be willing to help him? But what if that person, even your best friend, looked at you differently? The same way someone might look at you differently if you told them you liked boys. Mac was spinning in circles, he kept going back to the same point that maybe now wasn’t the right time.

But then when? Would there ever be a time? They say there’s never a time like the present, but the present was quickly changing and slipping away by each second. And that was exactly how Mac felt about himself. Loosing opportunities and allowing himself to succumb to destructive behavior all because he was nervous of what the world would think of him.

Euphemia

“Can I have three cappuccinos, please?” the posh girl asked from the other end of the counter. 

“Ya hear that one?” Damien shouted over his shoulder.

“I’m on it, thanks,” Euphemia got to work. 

After Damien had the customer pay for her purchase, he turned around and said, “Need help there, love?”

“No, I should be good, thanks,” Euphemia was focused.

He got closer to her head and whispered, “Been meaning to ask, how has the internship been going?”

“Oh,” she blushed. “Its alright actually. Not much has happened. Really just learning the ropes at this time, getting a feel for what it is going to be like. You can’t believe how many books and binders and papers, and this and that they’ve sent us home with to study. Study! They really did tell us that, is that nuts or what?”

“Well it is a pretty big job, even if you are the lowly interns,” Damien joked. “Wait, us?”

“Yeah, myself and the other intern,” Euphemia looked up from her work as the machine was steaming. “I told you that there are two interns, didn’t I now?”

“Probably, I just didn’t remember, sorry. How is she?”

“He, actually,” she began to fill up the takeaway cups. “He’s fairly nice, I mean, we haven’t really gotten to know each other on a personal level if that’s what you mean.”

“What? Haven’t been able to sit down for a spot of tea, at the palace, of all places?”

“No,” Euphemia exaggerated the word as she began to cap the cups. “Like I said, we are still learning a lot of the basics of the role, and the ins and outs of the palace. Plus the entire palace grounds, just in case we have to report to the other offices on location or go somewhere else.”

“Just as long as the job doesn’t involve your running coffee to each member of the royal family every morning this summer, although I’d say you are better prepared than this other chap,” Damien was always good for a tease. “What’s his name? The competition, you know.”

“Its not a competition,” Euphemia shook her head and turned around to give that girl her order. “His name is—”

She stopped dead in her tracks at the ironic sight in front of her.

“Pardon?” the girl’s posh accent was so thick you’d think she was French.

Euphemia shook her head and handed the cups to the customer as she eyed up Euphemia and slowly slinked away. Euphemia was still blinded by one of the new patrons of the café.

Damien strolled up next to her at the counter, “You were saying his name is…?”

“Ryan,” she exclaimed, a little louder than anticipated. And what she wanted, but it would be too late before she knew it. One didn’t come into a café like this and just not order something. One way or another, her co-intern would have to come up and ask for something, even if it was for the toilet.  
Ryan flinched and then stood at attention, hearing his name called. Euphemia felt awful now that she caught him off guard. He really was a kid compared to her. He looked her dead in the eyes, his eyes widening like the moon, and then he awkwardly shot his hand up in a quick wave before taking it back down immediately.

“And would this be the Ryan from the internship?” Damien asked.

“It is,” Euphemia waved back, as friendly as she could. “Ironic, much?”

“Beats me,” Damien mumbled. “He seems a bit lost, doesn’t he now?”

“I guess,” she said through tight lips. She waved back at Ryan, encouraging him to come up to the counter this time. It appeared the boy had a bag with him, she half wondered if the binders from the internship were in there. In this light, it really complemented his tan skin and the dark waves and kinks in his hair. He was also dressed fairly nice for a weekend. Clearly a polo underneath the jumper, with a pair of dark jeans. It was like he was trying to be casual but his parents didn’t let him out of the house without looking anything but his best. 

“Hi,” he said through a shy grin when he reached the countertop. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Euphemia said.

“You as well,” he said, his mouth twitched upwards on his left side. “This a part time gig?”

“It is now, actually,” Euphemia sighed. “I was working here a lot more but now with the other job, had to switch.”

“What’s your other job?”

“The internship?” Euphemia eyed up the boy. Was she sure this was Ryan?

“Oh,” he shook his head. “Sorry, just head in the clouds today, woke up a bit late I suppose.”

“Or on the wrong side of the bed and need a pick-me-up,” Euphemia smiled. “What can I get you.”

“Dunno actually,” Ryan looked at the boards behind her. “I can’t say I go out for coffee or tea much.”

“Well, how about I just start you with a decaf, and we will go from there? Anything to eat?”

“Please,” he laughed. “Two chocolate croissants if you have them, and maybe a sammy?”

“Gruyere and ham sound alright to you?”

“Fair enough,” again Ryan’s mouth twitched upward in a slight grin. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Euphemia punched in the order and then told him his total. He paid by card and then she started to get to work on his coffee and food. She exclaimed over her should, “Did you want those things toasted?”

“Yes, both them, all of them,” Ryan called back as he stood in place. “Well, not the coffee, though.”

“Figured that,” Euphemia turned around and winked at him.

After she had completed his order, Ryan slinked off to a lone table meant for two, placed his bag on the ground next to him, the food and drink just to the right of him which gave him enough space to place a notebook and laptop in front of him. The young boy was all set up, in a very professional way that you rarely saw in the café on a Saturday.

“Go talk to him,” Damien whispered in Euphemia’s ear, interrupting her dazing out.

“What? No, I don’t have a crush on him!”

“Not what I meant girl, he just looks lonely, and its almost serendipitous that you two are here. Plus you said that you haven’t really had the time to get to know one another, that there isn’t much time for that at the job. Why not now?”

“He looks like he’s going to be rather busy with a lot of work.”

“If he were coming to study for final exams, he wouldn’t be in a place like this where it is rarely quiet. Besides, he has tonight and till tomorrow to work on…whatever that is.”

“Maybe he has plans with friends tomorrow, you know.”

Now Damien really eyed up Euphemia at that judgment. “If he had friends, why would he be here right now?”

“Don’t talk like that, I’m sure he must have friends…or some kind of, group perhaps? Or—” Euphemia cut herself off at that. She quickly turned back around to look at Ryan and his party for one. He was intently looking at the screen in front of him as he held his cup of coffee in the other hand, keeping it but only two inches away from his mouth. Steam forming up around his nose and eyes. Maybe Damien was right, and the café wasn’t too busy right now. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to go and talk to the boy. Although she really didn’t want to think of him as a loner, maybe just someone who preferred their alone time.

“Fine,” she said, dropping the wash cloth on the counter and then exiting around, marching over to Ryan’s spot.  
He did not even register her approaching so when she said hello, she swore he jumped up from his seat about half an inch, just visible enough. His eyes flicked over to hers, she had a genuine smile on. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” Ryan shook his head. “Don’t you have to work?”

“I’m on a break, actually,” Euphemia lied.

“Wow, part-time job and you get breaks, possibly free coffee as well, that sounds like a great deal to me.”

“Well, I do get here when we open up for after seven in the morning and will be here until late in the afternoon,” Euphemia said as she slid into the empty chair. “But yes, I do get free coffee whenever I want. I just have to make it myself.”

“That would make sense,” Ryan sheepishly looked down at his food and stuffed his face with a third of one of the croissants.

“So, do you live far from here?”

“Actually I don’t, pretty close really. But I haven’t been here before.”

“Oh, that’s funny then. So you’re from Primose Hill?”

“No,” Ryan stuttered, and then paused a bit, it was like he had to think about it. “Mayfair,” he sputtered out.

“Really? Wow, you walk here?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he shook his head, looking down into his cup of coffee. “Well, okay, yes I did walk here. But that’s also because I’m not from Mayfair technically. Well, I don’t live in Mayfair I should say.”

“Then why did you say that?” Euphemia was extremely confused. Its one thing to be shy or nervous around someone you barely know even if they had spent the past week’s afternoons together. She might not feel comfortable giving out her information to juts anyone. But she was just casually trying to get to know him better. What was the harm in that? Discussing London neighborhoods, what was so wrong with that? Why did he have to make up a lie?

“Well,” he took a deep breath before speaking again, settling his cup on the table, and closing his laptop up. “I don’t know if you can tell from my accent, because it is a bit of a mix of both, but I’m technically American.”

Euphemia knew she was on to something on their first day, his accent was a little strange. But she hadn’t heard him say much else since so she wasn’t as a tune with it as she could have been. At least this made some sense, and maybe why he had been acting so awkward just in general. “Oh, but you do still have a bit of a London accent, have you lived here your whole life?”

“No, only the last few years, but would spend most summers out here. You see, my father is British, and my mother is American. In fact,” he looked further into his lap out of pure shyness or was he about to admit to a crime? “My mother is the American Ambassador to Great Britain.”

If Euphemia had a cup of tea even in the finest of the King’s China, she would have dropped it right then and there at that revelation. The son of the ambassador…what were the odds? “You?”

“Yes, me,” he laughed a bit, letting out some stress. “So, I don’t live in Mayfair, if anything I tell people Marylebone, but if you know a little bit about the ambassadorship, I live in Regent’s Park.”

“Not far at all from here,” Euphemia sat back in her chair, eyeing him up.

“Exactly,” he confirmed. He shook his head again and said, “Sorry I wasn’t honest.”

“No, it’s totally fine. I think I can understand,” Euphemia offered up. “Can’t say my mum and dad have anything important like that to do as a job, but I can understand you wanting to keep that part of your life private.”

“Private yes,” Ryan agreed. “But importance? Can’t say I have found the significance of their position.”

This made Euphemia laugh a bit, that someone could talk so boldly about their parents that way. It made sense though, Ryan was half American, he was brash with words whether he wanted to be or not. No filter at all on him even if he was a shy, friendless loner, or so she hoped he wasn’t going to be.  
“So its been quite some life for you too? Your mum is pretty famous?”

“Famous and infamous, one in the same when it comes to her,” Ryan seemed to relax in his chair. “My father is technically an English aristocrat, don’t know if he is so welcomed though.”

“I’m sure they sent your mother here for her assignment for that reason.”

“That was the initial thought, or what the press tried writing up. My bets were always to get my parents the hell out of the states, away from any controversy they were always brewing up. And I think for an appearance sake, it does look that way to the public. A close confident of the current US President given an ambassadorship that is for the country her husband is from. But its not like my father’s friends from growing up are rushing over every weekend, or inviting us out to their country homes. My grandparents and cousins rarely come around much too. Its actually quite a boring life.”

“I’m sorry that it has to be that way,” Euphemia shrugged.

“Thanks, its alright though. I’m glad to be back in London though. Initially my parents had me at boarding school and that was not fun. Even though I probably would have been in a similar situation back in the states. At least I would be able to handle Valley Forge a little better than I faired at Winchester.”

“Did you say Winchester?” Euphemia asked. She was in shock a bit, “So you mean you moved over here to England and sort of were sent right away to boarding school? And one that wasn’t even in London?”

“Nope, I had been doing some primary school work here initially in London when we first came, but I only lasted a year at boarding school. Thankfully was able to leave, so now just at private school here. Its better, not fabulous, but much better.”

“Well I’m sorry you had to deal with that, whatever might have happened, I won’t press you for more.”

“I appreciate that, Euphemia,” he said. She felt like this was the first time he had ever said her name. 

“I won’t bore you with my schoolgirl business, I don’t go anywhere overly posh if you were curious.”

“Wouldn’t offend me if you did, you seem like a genuinely nice person, if I may say that.”

“Of course you can! Why shouldn’t you?”

“Didn’t know if you were like me and hated compliments, not that I get them much.”

Alright, this boy was easily troubled, she needed to get him to stop thinking so negatively. What could she get him to discuss? Something a bit more off topic? No, can’t ask him if he had plans this weekend, Damien’s theory was eating away at her and proving further true to its core. Something work related? He did seem very studious judging by everything he had in front of him. Was he actually reviewing their guides?

“So,” she began, “is all this for studying our itinerary for the internship?” her hand grazed over the table.

“Oh no, I left that stuff at home. You realize how heavy those binders are?” Ryan tried to joke, but he was right. Those binders were filled with pages. “Plus, don’t really want that stuff out in public, in case anyone comes by and sees it you know?”

“Fair point,” Euphemia nodded her head in agreement.

“No, this is just a silly little thing I do. I really want to work in journalism or public relations, so I’ll look up some articles of things happening in the world, and then kind of make myself a mini assignment where I will write out my own article or press release statement. It sounds boring and all but its to force myself to either write eloquently and brief, or to hold someone’s interest with a long summarization of events. If that makes sense.”

“It sounds…very professional, I can see why you wanted the job at Ken Place.”

“Well, that and maybe I do secretly like the royal family,” Ryan looked down at his lap, biting his lip. “I just hope the prince didn’t actually catch onto that the other night.”

“Let’s hope not,” Euphemia said. “Actually…about him, the prince…”

“The prince?” Ryan whispered.

“Yes, of course, what other prince?” Euphemia laughed. “What do you think? He seemed rather…”

“Hard to put a finger on?”

“I suppose so.”

“I’m sure he’s nice when you get down to it, but I guess the fairy tale of tabloid culture around him is true. He seems like a true bohemian even if he is part of the upper crust of society. He’s relatable but also so unachievable, if that makes sense.”

“I can see why you want to be a journalist, Ryan, you have a way with words.”

“Thanks,” this time Ryan actually smiled, not a half grin. “You really think so?”

“I do, seriously, if you can roll that off your tongue like that, I can only imagine what time allotted to draft a statement would enable you to create. Do you write at school? Besides for papers and essays.”

“Not really, I haven’t gotten that involved at school really.”

“Well I think you should, if not for the rest of this term, then maybe make it a goal for next year.”

“A goal…I like that,” Ryan looked off into space. “Sorry, its just weird hearing that. I rarely talk about my goals with anyone.”

“Tough time at home then?”

“Its like sometimes my parents even forget the things I say I want to be when I grow up.”

“They have their own plans for us in mind, don’t they always?”

“Maybe that’s something we do have in common with the prince.”

“That’s definitely a thought,” Euphemia chewed on this, thinking for the first time even after saying how god like Louis seemed on this earth, maybe he was just like them. A regular teenager trying to find their footing in the world, seeing what sticks. That maybe Ryan possibly being a loner wasn’t solely by personal choice, but because his being a loner stemmed from having not found his community or calling. And even though Euphemia was on the verge of university before she would know it, it wasn’t such a bad thing to figure things out while she was young, have a little bit of fun even and take risks. Why was she pushing herself with several jobs then? Who was she trying to prove herself to?

Herself, just like Ryan was of his own accord. Just like Prince Louis probably was as well.

Louis

If you were standing on the outside of the door, you would think the royal prince was working on a car rather than a chair. There were shrills and zaps of sounds coming from the different tools he was using. He couldn’t say that refurbishing furniture was his forte, but he had dabbled in the past. Most times on smaller projects, things he had found out on streets or second-hand shops that deserved a second life rather than a shelf life. He was glad to have found this chair, either one of his distant relatives or a palace staff member who lived on the grounds of Ken Place had left this out the other week, and Louis had some fabric pieces he could use that might actually look nice on this chair and situate itself in one of the drawing rooms of 1A. Also, though, he might need to resurface and varnish this wood. While the antique look might have worked, his parents leaned half on traditional looks and half modern looks for their apartment.

He heard two knocks at the door. “Yes!?” he shouted back, drawing his palm across his forehead with sweat.

The door opened and one of the guards said, “Sir, Mr. Marcus Abbington here to see you.”

“Yeah, go on, send him in, alright,” Louis stood up and stood back from his work.

Mac entered the room, his face a bit rosy possibly from a brisk walk. “I see we are both sweating already?”

“I’m just getting started,” Louis came over and they clapped hands and hugged. “You alright? Feeling better?”

“Much, actually, thanks mate.”

“We missed you out on the dance floor last night.”

“Oh? And were you out there too?”

“Briefly, otherwise I was off in the corner chatting it up,” what Louis didn’t want to mention is that he did not drink nearly as much as his cohorts from the set, and that he had quietly slipped away at some point in the night to go for a round of photographs, see if there was any paparazzi action he could get up to on a Friday night in Soho. He even considered taking his motorbike all the way out to Camden. But there ended up not being that much action at all, most likely the photos he had captured were of toffs on a night out or university students bumbling about. He didn’t see anyone that struck him as tabloid worthy, Then again, the set he was a part of, if half of them were only aristocrats, the other half were children of famous parents.

“So,” Mac began to ask, “what do we have here? New project?”

“Yes, found it the other day, figured I’d do something with it since it was still in decent shape. What do you think of the color?” Louis flashed a swatch of stone blue in Mac’s face and his friend giggled and simply nodded his head, before looking the other way, aimlessly searching the room he had been in a dozen times before. “Is everything alright, Abbs?”

“Yes,” Mac immediately answered, but still not giving his full attention to Louis. “Why?”

“Dunno, it was just strange,” Louis scratched his head. “You seemed fair at school yesterday and then all of a sudden came down with something, but now seem alright?”

“Might have just been something I ate last night,” Mac defended himself. “Mum and dad had something at night so we ate on the earlier side, might have been the takeaway we got.”

“Ah, that’ll do you in,” Louis agreed, but he still was suspicious of his friend. Felt like he was still hiding something. “Well, I wish you had been there last night, would have been a lot more fun, or tolerable I should say.”

“Next time,” Mac responded.

Next time, Louis knew for a fact he had heard his best friend use this excuse before. He almost didn’t want to believe himself but he couldn’t help it, the proof was truly in the pudding. And especially most recently, it felt like he had heard this defense used more often than not. Of course Louis always understood when Mac had to attend something for his father, that was totally excusable. But it was these random scenarios of not feeling well or accidentally falling to sleep. They were happening more often than not. Louis didn’t want to press on his friend exactly what was going on. But he needed to say something, do something.

“Hey,” Louis slowly began. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Mac paused for a moment, blankly staring back at the prince before saying, “Sure thing, mate.”

“Sure thing,” Louis mumbled under his breath. There was without a doubt something he was being kept out of the loop of. Louis had dealt with that as a member of the royal family his whole life so far, and would continue to till the day he died. Not learning or expressing things immediately, always having a delay, things set on pause before hitting play again. But that was his duties to the crown, he had learned to live with it to a certain degree. This was his best friend, someone he had known long before Mac’s father came to be the figure he was in Parliament and eventually the current Prime Minister. He didn’t want Mac to keep things from him, but he couldn’t force it out of him, didn’t want to scare Mac away or make him thing Louis was exerting his fictitious royal authority upon him. 

“Hey, wanna hand me that?” Louis pointed to a tool box over on one of the carts. Mac quickly lept over to it and handed it to his friend. Then Louis was able to start getting Mac to help him out, hand him a few things or hold something down while Louis repaired or inspected it. This helped pass the time and they were able to have some lighter conversation, distracting Louis from constantly thinking about whatever Mac was keeping from him. Maybe it was so big and bad that Mac was afraid to mention it to Louis. Could it have anything to do with his father’s position, and that by leaking premature information to a member of the royal family would not only be inappropriate but in a way illegal? Perhaps that was it, something going on behind the scenes at home that carried over from work. That could be a reason Mac was so tight-lipped recently. Although, he’d always been particularly quiet since their early teenage years. Always letting Louis take the lead, which he was fine with. But Mac was almost too comfortable by it, if that made any sense. Just like right now, had no issues taking orders from his friend saying “Hand me this” or “Come take a look”. Yes, it was definitely the sign of a true friendship, but Louis felt like Mac was partially doing this sort of thing because he could not be honest with his friend in other ways.

After a few hours, there was a knock on the door, it was Louis’ father. “Ah, Marcus, good to see you there mate.”

“Your Royal Highness,” Mac dutifully bowed. “Thank you for having me over.”

“You don’t need to thank me, you’re always welcomed. But we haven’t seen you in quite some time it feels,” William slouched against the doorway. Then he cocked his head in the direction of his son, “Lou, why don’t you put that down for a bit?”

“Is everything alright?” Louis was not breaking concentration from his work.

“Yes, we were just going to break for some tea, your cousins are over.”

“I thought we were seeing the Middleton clan tomorrow?” Louis still wouldn’t look up, Mac chuckled.

“You have other relatives,” William shook his head, “Your aunts Bea and Eug are here with their families. Come on now boys, time you took a break. I’m sure Lou has been in here all morning.”

“Something like that,” he took the mask off his face and mussed up his hair a bit. “Good thing I was decently dressed for company coming over for tea.”

“And here I thought you got all dressed up for me,” Mac joked.

Louis pinched his cheek and got close to his face, cheering, “I always look my best for you Abbs,” Then he pulled away and immediately noticed Mac’s face flush bright red. More than the color his cheeks were when he arrived to Ken Place from his brisk walk from Downingtown. More than that, Mac looked utterly flusters, and suddenly shy. He looked away for a bit but when he came back around he was still as bright as a tomato. All he did was grin back with his lips before Louis clapped him on the back and guided him from the studio back into the main rooms.

The whole crew was here, both his parents, and the relatives. Aunt Eugenie and her husband Jack and their two boys Michael and Logan, and then Aunt Beatrice and her husband Edo and the twins Ella and Max. Louis was a few years older to Michael and the rest younger than that, but it was alright. Family was family, and these kids were actually pretty alright. Perhaps they hung on to Louis’ every word, but I guess that sort of thing happens. Now that George and Charlotte weren’t around, and the twins’ older half brother, Christopher, but everyone called him Wolfie. His mother Kate had set up a whole tea with sandwiches and small cakes, there was even some champagne flutes lingering on a cart nearby. Louis’ relatives were all familiar with Mac at this point being at Ken Place often enough. He was like the unofficial fourth Cambridge child.

Everyone took seats on the sofas and armchairs, the adults all sitting near each other by the window, the children by the doorway. Although Louis and Mac were hardly children anymore at this point as Uncle Edo slipped both of them a flute of champagne, but not for his two youngest children or his two nephews. Louis’ cousins were quizzing him as usual about school, about his photography, what he was planning for the summer. Michael was home from Harrow for the weekend so perhaps that was why everyone came over this afternoon especially if the Cambridge clan were going to be with the Matthews and Middleton families tomorrow. Mac just idly sat there, sipping his tea or champagne, nibbling here and there on a cucumber sammy. Hardly participating in the conversation except to nod his head in agreement with something. Even little Ella was putting in her two sense more than Mac, not that that was shocking. But there was something up with his best friend, something he was keeping secret from him. Louis wouldn’t press him today, but he would have to at some point. He wanted to make sure his friend was doing alright

Ryan

The good weather from Saturday carried over into the end of the weekend, and Ryan was enjoying spending some time lounging outside right now. He had spent the morning studying and reading for his classes, but had set a brief intermission between when he would lunch and snack while brushing up more on FAQs for the internship at Ken Place. His meal consisted of some left over salad with some left over grilled chicken sliced into there, along with a bag of crisps that he would pick on once he got down to flipping through the pages. He had also made himself some tea. It was cool enough outside right now that this warm cup helped him feel even more alive. But yesterday itself had made himself feel even more alive just in general. Of course, he didn’t’ get to work as much on his writing exercises like he tried to on the weekends. Instead, having the time to chat with Euphemia while she was on her break (which, at least to Ryan, felt really, really long) was actually what Ryan needed. He had come there to be alone like usual, and instead got the opposite gift. Just someone to talk to. She was at such ease asking him questions, Ryan wished he was that way with everyone. He felt comfortable discussing his passions with her, and she seemed mildly interested. Plus, she did suggest to Ryan about getting more involved at school with his writing. It was fairly late in the semester but maybe it would be good to at least scope it out sometime this week. It wasn’t like an actual job after all, it was an activity. What qualifications did he need to have? And, Euphemia barely knew him and already said he seemed like a decent writer. Beyond that, there was his current internship, the one he couldn’t talk about.

Ryan pushed the plate out of his way and dropped his tea mug on top. Time to break out the crisps and get cracking on some internship itinerary. He had bookmarked where he left off the other night, he had already glanced through some of the history of the British Royal Family the first night he got home. Besides, he had brushed up on the last century of monarchy prior to his phone interviews a month or so before. He was already aware of so much royal facts but he wanted to make sure he was up to par for that process of the vetting, should it come up. It didn’t too much, other than some basic questions. And those basic questions were seeming to serve as the basis and talking points for these binders. For instance, there was a whole section on the Prince of Wales. Not just the current one William, but everything you needed to know about the history of this person throughout the last thousand of years. How you are to greet them, what their titles are, what they are in charge of, and the list went on and on. A quiz on the Prince alone would easily be tough enough, and that was one person. Who knows if it would even get into specifics on an exam about the Duchy of Cornwall! But Ryan wasn’t anticipating a pop quiz, but you never know…

And then there were all these maps in here, explaining Ken Place grounds and beyond. Truly, it was a good thing Ryan did not bring something like this to the café yesterday. It explicitly stated certain things to know about the whole of Ken Place and even Buck House. Yet still, Ryan felt like they weren’t giving away all the possible information they could, only healthy dosages that would keep him and Euphemia informed and better equipped for their job. This was really going to be a lot, not that he hadn’t already guessed that when he filled out his application a few months prior. Now it was just a matter of how much the two of them would be doing. Especially once they were done with school, and were able to report practically full-time. Would they even have to attend things on weekends? Possibly, if there was something they were needed for. Jeez, maybe this was going to be more than he anticipated. But why complain? Not only was this something he was dead serious and passionate about, it kept him out of the house even more than he already planned to be.

After spending a good two hours briefing himself further on the halls and doors of Ken Place, Ryan figured he’d better take his actual studies up to his room, before it did start to get cooler out. He passed through one of the sitting rooms where he found his mother on her phone. She didn’t look up from her phone, typical. “Hello,” Ryan sounded out, as he clutched his books to his chest. 

“Oh,” Candace picked her head up, but didn’t lose focus. “Didn’t know if you had gone out or something.”

“Well, technically yes, technically no,” Ryan shrugged. “I was just out back, that’s all.”

“I see,” Candace tapped away with her nails. “But you were out yesterday?”

Wow, now this was good. Really surprising, so much so Ryan even gulped a bit. Had they noticed he was gone for a few hours? This was an improvement, or maybe cause for alarm. “Yeah, I did, just out to a café over in Primose Hill.”

“Oh, so not far,” his mother shook her head. Now she looked up and glared, “Were you meeting someone?”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Ryan stood his ground. “But I bumped into the other intern.”

“Seriosuly? What are the odds?”

“Very likely I guess, she works part-time at this café I was at. So we hung out for a little while.”

“Oh, I see,” his mother had a devilish grin on.

“What?” he impatiently asked, already knowing what she was thinking. It always went this way with his parents.

“Nothing, its just,” Candace began, “you said it was a girl?”

“Euphemia, that’s her name,” Ryan stated.

“Oh, what an interesting name,” his mother sounded half interested yet half not.

“She seems nice enough, she’s a couple years older it seems.”

“Oh, I see,” his mother said again.

Ryan didn’t even wait around this time, “I know what you are getting at, the answer is no.”

“I haven’t said anything,” his mother shook her head with the same grin from before. Now she wasn’t glued to her phone.

“We work with each other, jeez. And we just met. There is nothing there and there never will be. Trust me on that.”

“Fine, if you say so,” his mother laughed to herself. She always pulled this trick. Even when it came to family friends of theirs back when they lived in the States. Ryan always hated that so much. His parents were constantly trying to matchmake him for not even gain but their own interest. They found it amusing, even though their young teenage son could care less. Especially because they still hadn’t figured out that he was never going to be interested in the other sex. He never had been, and they always seemed to never take the hint. Of course he still hadn’t outright told them, but couldn’t they at least read the room? Well, no, Ryan knew they couldn’t. Need he explain again for the millionth time why they were even presently in England? His parents couldn’t read the room politically back home, and they couldn’t even read between the lines and see that their son was struggling.

“Perhaps she is like you then,” her mood turned a tad cold like ice. “And is just obsessed with these…people.”

“People? Well,” Ryan sarcastically laughed off. “I suppose that is better than other words I imagine you think of them as.”

“Oh most certainly,” Candace confirmed as she stood up from her lounge, and stood with only but one foot between her and her eldest son. “A complete waste, of space, time and money. That is what you are feeding into.”

Ryan stared back, trying to match the burn back. But his heart did not have it in him. In fact, he didn’t know what he had in his heart even. In this moment, and in life. To spur and scorn someone like that whether you know them or not. But perhaps that was the ironic thing of this all. Candace wasn’t just speaking about the royal family. Perhaps there was a darker, twisted truth to her words. One that she could not see or understand herself, maybe never would. For in that moment, Ryan felt like they were directed at him. Being a complete waste, a failure perhaps. He did remember those words coming out of his father’s mouth when he came to pick him up at the end of that dreadful year at boarding school. Yes, just him, his mother did not attend. No, there wasn’t something for her to be handling work-related. Ryan knew why, he’d always known why. She was embarrassed, and ashamed above all to have a son who could not meet her expectations. He was weak, not tough enough. Candace always going on about that the world needed “manly-men” when in fact Ryan found it that some of those types bred in society proved to be ruthless and cunning. The sort of people he did not want to associate himself with. Not now, not ever. Of all the things he could keep hidden from his family, it was this certain weakness they seemed to believe he excelled at. As if there was something medically wrong with him.

But why wouldn’t they think that too? For of course, they had aligned themselves time and time again with people who would still wish to see someone like their own son eradicated from this earth, converted from his evil ways. They may not say they agree with the likes of those extremists, but they also do not stand forth and disagree with them. They sit idly, feeding into it all. Acting as if it is doing no harm. So what if there son had devoured himself into a liberal feast, it was a world and belief that stood for him. More than his own parents had ever seemed to do since he came to that conclusion in his pre-teens. It was always going to be him, himself alone. Either stepping up to them, or cowering to them. In any case, he must fight this fight alone. That much, he was certain.

Ryan didn’t flinch, he didn’t make a sad puppy-dog face, and he didn’t scream. He turned on his heel and marched out of the room. His mother not calling after him, and he not turning around for a second glance. She did not deserve it, as much as Ryan was seemingly undeserving of everything that came his way.

Archie

It was getting late, nearly midnight at this point. He had school tomorrow and the start of some of his final exams. The days had been going by so slow recently, leading up to this point in the school calendar year. And as most kids are excited for a summer holiday, Archie was beyond elated. At least now he was, for the last week or so. After he had made his final decision. It was almost like selecting a multiple choice answer. Except maybe more like true or false, two options only. And this time, they were yes or no.

He chose yes, and clicked continue…

Archie had finally decided he needed to do it, no regrets. No telling anyone his plans, especially his mother. Its not like any of the kids at school were going to be bothering him this week on his summer holiday plans. Considering all spring he said how he wasn’t doing anything special, no one was going to take an interest in him now. Good, the less questions asked the better. Because Archie still had a hundred questions to ask himself. Like, for instance, once he arrived in London, what was he to do first? Just hail a cab and have them take him to Buckingham Palace? Then what, go up to a guard and show them his California drivers license? Would that be enough proof to show who he was? And would they already have enough of a warning something like this could happen? Would in fact the moment he goes missing that coming Friday would his mother contact the authorities, and not just the Los Angeles county police, but TMZ and ET, and let them know her son, a not-so-distant heir to the British throne had gone missing? Would she even play it up that maybe he was kidnapped? Archie still needed to play that all out correctly, would he take an Uber? Or drive himself?

There were so many questions to be answered, but at the same time, Archie kind of didn’t want them to be granted just yet. Perhaps all he needed to do was fly by the seed of his pants, let things happen as they may. If things worked out, wonderful. If not, oh well, he would be feet on the ground in the U.K. by the end of the week for the first time in over fifteen years. It was like he was going on a self-imposed suicide mission. No, he was going to find himself, find out about his past, his parents’ past, his fathers’ family’s past, his late grandmother Diana’s past. This was why he didn’t care about answering his own questions of getting across the pond safely this coming Friday. There were a million other questions flooding his brain that he wanted answered this summer.

He glanced down at the scrap of paper he had already prematurely written on. He was so excited he had already gone ahead and bit the bullet on this part. It was going to be left in his room regardless, and she wouldn’t be coming in here to inspect him before then, or ever. A note that read, “Mom- Don’t worry about me, I think I’m finally going to find my own freedom”

And he was certainly on his way there.


End file.
